


The Parents' Evening

by Seriitz



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Everyone Is Gay, F/F, Gay Panic, Lucius Malfoy Being an Asshole, Lucius Malfoy in Azkaban, Multi, No Lesbians Die, Useless Lesbians
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-18 22:02:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 34,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29616093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seriitz/pseuds/Seriitz
Summary: As a 24 year old Divination professor at Hogwarts, you've had some trouble students in your years of teaching.After a particularly enlightening parents evening, you find that sometimes Daddy Issues are a personality trait and Mommy Issues are keeping your bed warm at night.Now featuring Wolfstar :)Me reading kudos and comments: 😭🥺🏳️🌈
Relationships: Draco Malfoy & Reader, Harry Potter & Reader, Lucius Malfoy & Reader, Lucius Malfoy/Narcissa Black Malfoy, Minerva McGonagall & Reader, Narcissa Black Malfoy/Reader, Remus Lupin & Reader, Severus Snape & Reader, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 23
Kudos: 51





	1. Chapter 1

You were often pulled into Minerva's office for a chat. More often than not listening to her teaching stories of the past while she signed the invitations to Hogwarts for the baby witches and wizards-she did always like to start preparing early for these things.

Today's invitation replies were slightly different. The reply forms were back from the parents of those baby witches and wizards in regards to a Parents Evening. A chance to talk about the progress of their children and, more often than not, a chance to berate the Professors for the lack of said progress in some of their little terrors.

Thinking about some of the more _challenging_ students of your class you were intrigued to find out who raised them. 

"Remember to schedule aside free time so I can go with each of my kids, Minnie," you request, sifting through the pile of declined reply forms for students in years 1 to 7.

A small, short laugh comes from the elder Professor's throat, "Hmrph, they're not your children, they just didn't have any guardian available or willing to visit." 

"Tuh-MAY-toe, toe-MAH-toe," you sigh. "I'm not having those kids sitting alone with Severus going off on a tangent about bottling fame, brewing glory, and how the only thing they can put a stopper in is their hopes of passing Potions class." 

That cracks her, "Okay, okay! We'll go together. You can ask Professor Lupin to join you for my Transfiguration classes and again for your Divination classes."

"Thank you, Minnie!" you grin, knowing that she is wrapped around your little finger after years of friendship. 

Smiling warmly, she gestured down to the unsorted reply forms, "Now, back to work!"

* * *

Lighting the burner for the kettle, you slump into your armchair. Worn out from decades of misuse, the red velvet now a patchwork of handmade repairs. Your regular lunchtime visitors- Lavender, Hermione, and Pansy- have all come and left as their next class loomed. You slowly rise out of your chair and start to distribute the teacups for the 4th class of the day before remembering that your next class takes place in a ground floor classroom. 

Crashing out of the door, you take a little leap into your animagus form, a small black cat with white socks on the paws. Skipping steps as you bound down the spiral staircase of the North Tower, you hastily gallop towards your next classroom. With 5 minutes to spare before your kids arrive you quickly transform back to your human form, robes streaking behind you like a cape as you rush to distribute the textbooks. A copy of ' _The Dream Oracle_ ' placed at every desk, the last leaving your hand as the first students begin to stream through the doors. 

As a Ravenclaw girl wheels herself into place behind her desk you begin your class. As the 3rd years grab notebooks from their bags, you take the class attendance register with no absences to report. 

"In our last class we discussed recurring dreams, and the meaning behind obscure imagery," you start. "Today we will be taking this a little further and you will see if you can decipher some of your own dreams. Often these dreams show things that play in our minds. Anxieties, fears, of course; but also hopes for the future, wants and needs that haven't been met yet, or simply people who are important to us."

Flipping your book to Chapter 15, you point out the first line.

" _In order to know others, we must first know ourselves_ ," you read. "Therefore, you do not have to share your work with your desk partner. I'll be giving an example dream later in the class for you to work in pairs."

You loved giving pair work near the end of class. The very targeted seating plan designed to build friendships and help facilitate relationships between the students. 

* * *

The class soon comes to a close and your students file out of the room, handing over homework and thanking you for the class. As you climb the stairs of the North Tower to your next class you see Ronald Weasley pouring over some 3 headed dog they had seen the other day with Hermione and Harry following closely behind. You had realised by now that trouble always seems to follow those 3 and made a note to pick up with Minerva the next time you saw her.

You slip past them and quickstep into your classroom populated with 1st year students already seated. You had a rocky relationship with some of the 1st years, usually having started Divination as 3rd years Dumbledore saw it fit to open the class to all years due to the noted increase in successful exam passes and overall student wellbeing. Maybe she's born with it, maybe it's compentant teaching methods.

The smaller they got, the more terrifying they were. A Year 7 will do their homework on time, study hard, and engage with the course materials. A Year 1 will often lose hope easily, get distracted by the flashier of subjects such as Potions or Transfiguration, and find certain nuances difficult to understand. 

"Today, we will be discussing your end of term paper. Tasseography- reading tea leaves- and how symbolism often crosses over with those of Cartomancy- reading cards. In front of you is a cup with tea leaves already manipulated into symbols for you to read. I want you to identify the symbols, explain their meaning, and from that discuss what tarot card you believe them to be describing."

You look around the class at the slightly befuddled 1st years as if they hadn't spent the past 8 and a half months studying for this end-of-year paper ahead of their exam. 

"Okay, so I'm sensing that we need some sort of example here. So!" you smile, pulling out your own cup. "This card is one of the easiest cards of the deck and therefore will not be tested on in the paper due. Pass the cup around, take some notes on what you see."

Once the cup is safely back in your hands, you ask for some examples of what they saw. 

"Bells!" shouts a Ravenclaw from the back. 

"Very good, anything else?" 

" _Flowers_..? And two little circles," Pansy pipes up from the corner table. 

"Yes! And?" you praise. 

"I see a cup," Draco scoffs, rolling his eyes.

"That's a good one! In the middle, a little goblet," you point out. "Anyone else?" 

"A waste of my time?," Draco smirks, looking to the two boys beside him for support. 

"I don't think I can see that in here," you say staring intently into the cup to the giggles of the other students. 

"Oh no, it's there, right next to a little fat lump," he chuckles. "Looks like you have a twin, _Bullstrode_." 

"Draco. One more snarky remark and you will be staying after your classes for a discussion," you say firmly. 

"My father will hear about this! This is clearly discriminatory behaviour against people such as myself. You asked for what I saw. And from a filthy mudbl-" he spits. 

"Finish that sentence and you'll be put to Dumbledore," you say calmly. "Or worse, Professor Snape. I don't think your father would be happy to know your progress in this class is being stunted by your attitude." 

Draco quietens to a mutter as you continue on with your class.

After explaining the symbols and the meanings behind them, they soon make the connection to a couple of cards and eliminate this down to the one. 

"Does everyone understand what their task is? Did that help you?" you ask the class to an answer of nods and mumbling agreement.

You glance up at the clock, "Okay, for the last 30 minutes I want you to study your own cup. Note the symbols, draw the positions in the cup as best you can so you have something to take away with you for further study. This assignment is due by next Monday's class and will be a point of discussion for your Parent's Evening later next week as a mark of your progress in the class."

* * *

As the students filter out of the room, packing their study books and saying their goodbyes, you call back to the last to leave. 

"Millie, if you ever need to have a little chat. Girl to girl. I'm always here, okay?" you offer softly. 

The girl nods and gives a small smile before leaving.

Soon you find yourself slumping into your armchair for comfort. A single word rolling around your thoughts. 

**_Mudblood_**. One of the nastiest slurs for muggleborns you've heard. 

It was true that your parents were both muggles. Scared when you received your first letters from McGonagall- explaining that you were likely to be accepted when you came of age to attend a few years later. Both were a mixture of confused and horrified that their child had seemingly been inducted into a " ** _Devil Worshipping Cult of Satanism_** " as they had called it.

Always a peculiar child, the penny had finally dropped when during a particularly indulgent reading session you had managed to somehow levitate your father's birthday cake from the kitchen counter, down the hall to knock straight into your mother's vase of geraniums. The crash, having startled you out of your fantasy world, caused the cake to once again become affected by gravity. The only remains of Victoria Sponge being vacuumed up by Gertrude, the family's yappy little Pekinese dog.

Soon shipped off to live with your Grandmother, your parents had washed their hands of you. Your Grandfather had passed away some years previously and she had never sought to remarry at the time. Although a little affected by the beginnings of dementia at the time, your Grandmother had always supported you in your peculiarities. Then again she was in her own way, peculiar. Her cottage home in the wilds of Scotland on old crofter land, stood alone for miles. She had a particular knack for growing her own foods and her animals loved her. A small section of the garden was forbidden if not accompanied by her personally but held some culinary herbs and other plants she would call her 'secret ingredients'. 

"Back when I was in the Griffin Door," she used to start. "There were the most wicked parties held in the Huffle Puff common room. Min, Donald, and I would sneak out on occasion to join in. We had access to everything in those days, you know. They don't call themselves _Puff_ for nothing," she would giggle to herself, eyes lighting up before falling back to sleep. 

Having been bundled through Diagon Alley to pick out your school things at the age of 11, you still believed that it was all just a story. Despite the owls hooting as you passed Eyelops Emporium, despite the pictures moving out of the corner of your eye in posters outside Flourish and Blotts, despite the tape measure that knew your exact size with one flourish of Madam Malkin's wrist. 

It wasn't until you arrived at King's Cross, a bestfriend of your Grandmother's dragging you and your new little owl companion in terror through the brick wall to Platform 9 and 3/4 did you realise that all of her little stories were true. The train, the magic, the castle carved out of a mountain, the _parties_. 

Having been sorted into Hufflepuff you had experienced the parties first hand. The Slytherin parties were wild, Hufflepuff a little more laid back. Gryffindor parties were always a riot, literally. Ravenclaw parties were mostly study cram sessions but they also held poetry slams when the exam season ended. The first time you rode a broom and broke your arm you were shuffled off to Madam Pomfrey. From the first sip of BoneSet you realised it was a familiar taste, having had the same medicine from your Grandmother as a younger child after eating pavement falling off of your scooter. 

You could laugh about it now. How oblivious you were. Your Grandmother, a Gryffindor witch, and best friend to a certain Minerva McGonagall. Your Grandfather, a Slytherin wizard, casualty of the First Wizarding War fighting against Voldemort. Your mother, their daughter, had no magical abilities and had grew to resent your Grandmother over time.

In some ways your childhood had set you on the path for teaching. For taking in children and sheltering them for 10 months of the year. For being at times their mother, father, confidant, therapist, and above all their teacher.

Even if they were a little _difficult_ at times.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Thank you for getting to the end of Chapter One! Extra points if you can figure out what tarot card the tea leaves were hinting at 😎


	2. Chapter 2

Parent's evening rolled around faster than you expected and soon you found yourself calling in parents to discuss the progress of their kids.

"Hannah has a real aptitude for Divination, Mrs Abbot. I'm very happy with her progress. Her last paper was marked with only a few revisions of note. I think these will all be corrected by the time she is ready to progress to second year," you add, smiling as Mrs Abbot pats her daughters shoulder fondly. "Of course, if you have any reservations or additional support you wish for me to address I would be happy to take feedback from yourself or Hannah."

When Mrs Abbot ushers her daughter out of the classroom to their next appointment you hear a knock on the door.

"Only me," Remus smiles, popping his head through the curtain. "You ready? Michelle Bates' transfiguration appointment is next."

Standing, you follow him down the stairs of the North Tower to the transfiguration classroom. He holds the crook of his arm out for you and you link your arm through his. Michelle, a 15 year old Hufflepuff, stands outside of the classroom, nervously pacing until she sees you both arrive.

"Mum," she nods, laughing. "Dad." 

Minerva calls you all into her classroom. Before you can move to sit, Remus pulls out your chair and gestures for you to sit.

"Thank you, darling," you say, smiling up to him.

"Only the best for my wife," he says lovingly, to the giggles of Michelle, before sitting to your left. 

"Now Miss Bates, your attendance has been quite exemplary in class," Minerva starts. "I know you are a very bright student and your results so far are proof of this." 

"Do you hear that, darling? Our child is a genius," you say dramatically, clutching to Remus by the arm. 

"I had no doubts in my mind, she clearly gets her skills from you, my dear," Remus replies, almost breaking his role with a smirk. "Don't you think, Michelle?" 

She bursts out in giggles as she nods. 

"I think she gets all of her skills from that wonderful brain of hers. I've always said she would be the best of us," you smile warmly, giving Michelle a wink. 

Minerva shakes her head at your antics fondly, "I have some recommendations for further study should you wish to top up your knowledge for the final examination of the year."

Guiding Michelle into the Potions classroom for her last appointment, Minerva replacing Remus as your wife for the time, you are prepared for the barrage of put-downs to start.

"Ah, Miss... Bates," Severus starts. "Please take a seat." 

You squeeze Michelle's shoulder in support as she sits down on the stool. 

"Very mediocre work from you this year, Miss Bates. Your Draught of Peace almost brought the class to tears and the only reckless thing about your Befuddlement Draught was in the way you were allowed to return to class the following days."

"Do you still have it? The Draught of Peace?" you ask. 

"No, all potions are safely disposed of to avoid... unsightly accidents."

"Learning from experience I take it?" you smile. "I must say, Minerva, surely if our child is doing so badly in this class then it can only be reflected upon the Professor themselves for not finding a way to engage her?" 

"Quite, dear," Minerva replies. "It does rather make you wonder what other _shortfalls_ he possesses."

"My wife and I are very disappointed in your work, Mister Snape, we do hope you'll try harder for our dear child," you sulk, Severus' eyes rolling in annoyance as you usher Michelle out of the class.

"Thank you, Professors," Michelle pipes up as she moves to return to her common room. "I think you managed to earn me at least five Snape Bingo points from that one meeting!" 

"Use them wisely!" you laugh as Michelle's smiling face disappears around the corner. 

"Snape _what_?" Minerva questions. 

Smiling, you take her arm in yours, leading her away to your next appointment. "Don't you worry about a thing, dear wife of mine. Now onwards!" 

Minerva sighs, allowing herself to be lead to your next 'child'. 

* * *

Pouncing up the stairs of the North Tower in your cat form you reach your classroom early for your next Divination appointment. 

Before you have time to sort yourself, you hear a familiar voice echoing up the staircase. 

"-father. You must. You can't let that _Mudblood_ get away with this."

"Draco!" A female voice hushes, "Please. Let your father handle this himself."

"Yes, quite. How dare she speak with a Malfoy like that?!" A male voice whispers, haughtily. 

You barely have time to return to your human form before Lucius Malfoy bursts through your door. 

Gesturing to the chairs in front of you as you invite the family inside, "Please. Do have a seat."

The father, Lucius, a man with long white hair sits down in the seat directly across from yourself. His cane clacking beside him. The mother, Narcissa, clearly out of the father's league sits to his left and elegantly crosses her legs before nodding for Draco to sit beside his father. Draco slumps down into his chair with all the poise of a breeching whale, clearly unhappy to be here. 

Once they are all seated you move to sit yourself, pulling out the academic record for Draco from your desk drawer. 

"I will not waste your time," you say clearly. "Your son is not doing as well in class as I would have hoped. I have tried multiple ways to engage him but I cannot do anything if he has no willingness to learn. He is consistently late to class and his attendance as of late has been poor. Now, I'm not-" 

"Let me stop you there, miss. You see, I thought I just heard you infer that Draco has been doing poorly in his classes with you?" the father enquires. 

"That is the jist of it, yes," you admit. "However, I think-" 

"If I could just explain," he stops you again. "You see, my son finds your teaching to be lacking. As a muggleborn, you clearly have little experience of the subject. You look like a child yourself!" he laughs, coldly. "May I ask your age?" 

"Respectfully, neither my age or my blood status affect my ability to teach. I have been teaching for four years at this school now, since the age of twenty. I have the ability to-" 

"Hah, did you hear that, dear? Twenty four years of age and she proclaims to know everything about the subject!" he scoffs. 

"If your son spent as much time learning as he does bullying the other students he may well be on his way to top marks," you say in rebuttal.

"How _dare_ you?!" Narcissa finally speaks. "My son would not hurt a fly."

"Draco, would you like to wait outside?" you offer softly. 

As he moves to stand his father's cane smacks him back to the chair without a word or a glance in his direction. 

You sigh softly, digging out the previous essay papers that Draco had completed for class and spreading them across the table as Draco sinks back into his chair, hiding. 

A single sheet of parchment with the word ' _Mudblood_ ' scrawled across the front. 

"This was an assignment on tea leaf readings."

Multiple sheets of parchment with predictions of your death, of other muggleborn students' demise, of boasting his father's position in the ministry. 

"This was card reading, a little bit of dream work, crystal ball readings," you point in series. 

"I hope you know why I am concerned for his progress. I understand you think the world of your child, Mrs Malfoy. I only wish for him to meet your expectations."

"Hold your tongue or I'll-!" Lucius breaks.

"You'll what?" you smirk. "What are you going to do, Lucius? Box bleach me to death?" 

Lucius stops in his tracks. 

"You are both _highly_ welcome to sit in during a class if you wish to observe my teaching or my skillset. Although," you break eye contact with Lucius to give Narcissa a wink. "By the way your wife hasn't taken her eyes off of me this whole meeting, it won't take a deck of cards to predict that you're nowhere near satis-" 

"That is it! The Headmaster will hear of this!" Lucius roars, pointing his cane straight into your chest.

Laughing, you flick away the cane. "My teaching or your limp-"

"Draco! We are leaving!" he seethes, grabbing Draco by the scruff of the robes as Narcissa flicks her eyes pointedly downwards to avoid your gaze, rushing out of the door with her husband.

As the door closes your heart sinks. What the fuck just happened?


	3. Chapter 3

The transfiguration classroom was silent as Minerva stirred her tea. 

"Biscuit?" she offered, breaking the tension. 

"Minerva. I didn't mean to, honestly, it just came out. You know I wouldn't have, especially in front of the kids, but he wound me up so much I just couldn't-"

"You're not in trouble," the grey haired witch chuckled. "Far from it."

"But Professor Dumbledore..?"

"Albus laughed all the way down to my office," she smiles. "Something about it ' _being time for a comeuppance_ '. Of course he placated Lucius with talks of discipline."

Still in turmoil you picked at your nails before taking a small sip of the tea Minerva nudged towards you.

"Honestly, dear, if you had the fight to stand up to Lucius Malfoy your teaching position here is the least you have to worry about." 

This made you smile a little, "It was rather satisfying. Lucius went bright red and Narcissa couldn't even look at me afterwards." 

"She _is_ a powerful Legillimens," Minerva added. "Most likely she saw how Draco had been acting in your class and, somewhere - deep down mind you- she felt ashamed of his behaviour." 

This statement pulls you out of your thoughts as you stutter, "S-She... Can read minds..?"

"Talented witch, Narcissa. I always felt she would have been destined for something higher had it not been for that ' _family_ ' of hers," Minerva reminisces. 

"Thanks for the tea!" you say, quickly shoving your chair back to stand before forcing yourself to walk slowly to the door. "Have to prepare for the final exams!" 

Minerva's bewildered face is the last thing you see before you shut the door and run through the halls to your own classroom. 

' _Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck! That means..._ '

Your mind wanders back to the meeting, glances at long legs and perfectly red lips suddenly flooding back. The images you created of you and her together, alone in your dorm, as you tear away that black buttoned blazer and delicately bend her over your desk. Her hair coming loose and spilling over her bare breasts as you take her to pieces over and over again with just your fingers leaving her naked, kiss bruised, and dripping. 

You reach your classroom, closing the door before sliding your back down to sit on the cold stone floor. 

With your face burning beetroot, you tried to console yourself with the fact that at least you wouldn't have to face her for another year. 

* * *

You awoke in the middle of the night with the feeling of bile in your throat. Sitting up and wrapping your robe around yourself, you slowly descend the stairs into your classroom. 

Pulling out your desk drawer to grab the little bottle of ginger you keep tucked away, your hand grasps at nothing. You sigh deeply, exasperated at yourself, before descending the stairs and passing through the main stairwell in an attempt to raid the kitchens. 

" _Look, are we sure this is a good idea_?" came a boy's voice, echoing through the stairwell. 

" _We have to stop Snape_!" another boy's voice rang out. 

" _Move over_ ," echoed a girl's sighing voice. 

' _What are they up to_?' you wondered to yourself before creeping up the staircase to the third floor. 

Harp music drifts softly from a door you know should be firmly locked and out of bounds. 

' _They wouldn't_ ,' you laugh to yourself. ' _Would they_?' 

The sound of barking and children screaming answers your question and you find yourself flinging open the door and casting a heavy sleeping spell on the 3 headed dog in the middle of the room. 

"Sorry, Fluffy," you whisper as you peek over the trapdoor to see the main suspects currently tangled in Devil's Snare. 

Barely managing to shield your eyes from the sunlight charm Hermione produces, you slip your legs over the edge of the hole and use a charm to slow your descent to the floor beneath. 

"You three again. What was Professor McGonagall just telling you?!" you berate, an arm clutching Hermione and Ron each to your shoulders, as if to protect them. 

You let them go reluctantly before sweeping your hands over the arms of your robes to clear off the dust and slobber. The 2 children look up, at least having the decency to look a little sorry for their actions. 

"Now, where's the third one?" you ask, eyes darting behind you at the sounds of a door creaking open. 

Sighing, you turn back to the other 2 offenders. "Asking you to stay here won't do anything will it?"

They both shake their head determinedly before following the sound.

' _This is going to be a long night_.'

* * *

"- irresponsible, life-endangering actions!" McGonagall raises her voice.

Sheepishly, you move your gaze to the floor. 

"Thank Merlin you were there, dear." 

"Huh?" you sound, lifting your head. 

"Those three are giving me more stress than their predecessors," she admits, rubbing the bridge of her nose. "I need the summer holidays to recuperate enough for what I'm assuming will be a yearly intervention for the next six years." 

Smiling, you pat her on the shoulder before dismissing yourself for a well earned rest. 

As your body hits the duvet you find yourself sinking quickly to sleep as a distant dream takes hold.

* * *

Two pale white arms wrap around your naked waist from behind, their owner lazily tracing blood-red painted nails up your bare thighs. The action, soft at first, becomes more painful like talons scratching angry red lines up your outer thighs and hips, making you moan. Nipping teeth and soothing tongue work a path from your shoulder to your earlobe. One hand rising to cup your breasts, kneading and playing away at your nipples as the other hand dips lower between your legs. A slow, building rhythm of strokes and circles making you whine for more. 

"- _issa_?" a faint male voice starts to echo. 

Abruptly you snort awake. You pick up your head to see sunlight streaming through the gaps in your curtains and panic. 

Checking the alarm clock you realise 3 things. Number 1, you slept in. Number 2, it's the summer holidays. Number 3, you're late for a trip with Remus. 

You roll out of bed and chuck on the first muggle clothes that come to hand, struggling to fit the neck of your top around your toothbrush in an attempt to multitask. Bounding into the kitchen you grab a slice of bread before waving goodbye to a small portrait of your Grandmother on the wall beside the back door. You apparate at a run through the garden, crashing through Remus's living room and toppling over his black leather Chesterfield sofa. 

" _Afternoon_ ," Remus greets you from his pink velvet armchair, raising his cup of tea in salute as you lift yourself up off of the floor. 

"Ready?" you grin in response, toasting him with your slice of bread.


	4. Chapter 4

"A recurring dream?" Remus asks, his hands stuffed into his jacket pockets as you slide an arm around his elbow.

"Almost every day now since the end of term," you explain, guiding him across the street and into a little clothing store.

"Tell me more," he purrs.

"Its not the exact same every time. Just the same situation. The same _hands_ , the same _lips_ , the same-"

"Tell me less!"

Smiling, you pull on a floppy straw hat, turning to pose for Remus. "What do you think it means?"

"Well," he starts, fussing as you fit a matching hat over his mop of hair. "Do you know them? Recognise them? Is it anything other than just your mind making up a wet dream fantasy?"

"It feels real. Like they're there," you explain. "I've not seen their face. Blindfolded or not facing them every time."

" _Kinky_ ," he smirks. "I wouldn't worry about it too much. Probably just an overactive imagination after... how many years has it been since your last?" 

Grumbling you move to another section of the store, picking up some sunglasses. "That's besides the point, Moons."

"That's exactly the point, Beans. We need to get you laid already," he states. "And I have just the place."

* * *

Slowly you get swept up in the pounding of club music and swaying of bodies. Remus stands at the bar chatting away to a guy who looks like a T-Bird reject.

You're 8 shots into the night when you notice the girl by the DJ booth staring. As she dances her way over to you, you feel your heart start to race. She is definitely beautiful, someone you would normally have no trouble being attracted to. Long, curly brown hair and flashing brown eyes under the swirling stage lights around you.

The brunette leans into you, her breath on your ear as she pulls you closer. Your bodies sway to the beat of the music, her leg slipping between your thighs. Running a hand through your hair, she pulls your face closer, dipping her head down to kiss you. As you pull back from the kiss, your vision distorts. Pin straight black hair with a streak of blonde. 

" _Narcissa_?" you mumble. 

The girl giggles, bringing your vision back to normal, "I'm Bea! Listen, you wanna get out of here?" 

"I- Um- Sorry," you stutter, stepping back. 

"Oh, that's fine! Are you okay?" Bea asks in concern, seeing your face drop. 

"I'm great, just need to get some air," you explain. 

"Here's my number. Just in case?" she offers, scribbling a string of numbers onto a napkin and handing it to you. 

"Thanks, for the- y'know?" you bumble, awkwardly. 

She laughs, winking. "For you? Any time." 

Getting closer to the bar, you order 2 more straight shots for the road, downing them before moving to collect Remus. You almost feel bad for pulling him away after necking the T-Bird but as he triumphantly returns to you, phone number in hand, he is happy to be led back through the streets of London to his apartment. 

"You are such a lightweight, Moo," you groan as you hurl his body onto the mattress. 

"I'm not skinny, you're just very strong," he mutters.

Rolling your eyes, you pull off his shoes and tuck him in. 

"I'm sleeping on your casting couch," you smirk, stealing a blanket from the top of his closet. 

"For the last time, it's not a porn couch!" Remus replies, head barely lifting from the pillow. 

"You got it from a guy who did ' _set design for independant film works_ '. Safe to say, I'm not the first _pussy_ to have sat on this couch," you explain, referencing your Animagus form. 

Remus groans from the bed before quickly falling into sleep, his soft snores echoing across the room. 

Snuggling into the illegally soft blanket, the ticking of the grandfather clock in the background lulls you to sleep. As your vision goes dark you feel a soft hand, stroking the hair away from your face. 

* * *

"Remy," you call out. "Remus, we're going to be late!" 

One of these days you'll wake up on time for something but today is not that day. 

"No loud noises," he whispers in response, pulling on his leather jacket.

Slipping on a pair of sunglasses and swinging the straps of your backpack over your shoulders, you take Remus' arm and apparate to Diagon Alley. 

"F and B's have told me they'll hold the textbooks to 11am so I'll go there first and then double back to the bank, okay?" you ask, taking a quick look at your watch. 

"I'll get you at the bank then," Remus answers, smirking as he steps backwards towards the bank. "And don't be too long, I know how you get about bookshops."

You skirt past a gaggle of children, laughing as they point out a little black bat hanging on a sign pole outside the Emporium. Slightly out of place in your muggle clothing, you slip your hands into the pockets of your leather jacket as you walk into Flourish and Blott's. The ring of the bell on the door announces your arrival. A little busy with the start of the school supply season, you make your way to the front desk. 

"Hector!," you greet the young man standing at the till, pushing your sunglasses up to rest on top of your head. "I'm here for the Divination textbooks? Reservation number forty-two." 

"Of course, Professor, I'll be one minute!" he replies, moving to the stockroom to collect the books. 

Pile by pile the textbooks start to accumulate on the table, you double check the volumes and numbers before slipping them into your open backpack, very grateful for the extension and weight charms.

The jingle of the door bell ringing announces the entry of more customers, you glance back to apologise for the delay when you're faced with the worst of horrors. All 3 Malfoys standing at the door. Draco, lucky boy, slips upstairs after seeing your face but your fortunes didn't have such a saving grace. 

" _You_ ," Lucius grits his teeth. 

Sensing drama, the other patrons of the shop mostly leave, only a few sticking around to watch the bloodbath unfold. 

"Me!" you smile, picking up the pace at which you fill your backpack. "So nice to see you again Mr Malfoy... Mrs Malfoy. Hector will only be a minute. I'm afraid these textbooks for the new year are taking a little while." 

"New year? I was told by Dumbledore that you would be fired," Lucius spits.

" _Disciplined_ ," you correct. "And I was. Bent right over the Headmaster's table. Couldn't sit for weeks."

If it wasn't so quick you could have sworn that the corners of Narcissa's mouth perked up, pink rising in her cheeks as she lifts her gaze to you, having been previously staring at a particularly interesting knot in the floorboards. 

You try to keep your thoughts straight, _hah_ , but it was hard not to notice the way Narcissa looked at you. Like she was slipping off your jacket, lifting you up onto the desk, and ripping off your jeans in her mind. 

You pass a pouch of money to Hector, who doesn't bother counting it all by this stage, and your loyalty card - which receives 3 further stamps to fill it and an additional 5 full stamp cards. 

Piling the last of the books into your backpack along with your stamps, you attempt to excuse yourself. "Anyway, as _lovely_ as this has been, I must dash!"

Slipping through the gap between the two Malfoys you push the door only to slam into the glass, finding it's a pull opening. You quickly pull the door open and set off to the bank.

"There you are!" Remus calls to you, shades firmly over his eyes in an attempt to sate his hangover. "What happened? More poetry catch your eye?" 

"Malfoys," you huff, taking his arm and apparating. 

* * *

As you walk out of the toilet block, you hear the waves crash along the shore. The chimes of the ice cream van sound as you take your shoes and socks off to walk in the sand.

"Ice cream for your nerves?" Remus offers, tying the laces of his shoes together and hanging them over his shoulders.

"Have I ever declined?" you smile, following him to the little ice cream van sitting on the street alongside the beachfront. 

One Mr Whippy later, you're still irritable. "I can't believe how smarmy he is. I almost feel sorry for Narcissa having to put up with that all day. You know I thought I saw her at the club last night? That family stresses me out."

"Where was she?" Remus asks, intrigued, as you pull the staw hat out of your bag and pop it on his head. 

"Well, that girl I kissed. I was so drunk that when I took a double take I could have sworn I saw that goddamn hair of Narcissa's," you laugh.

"Sounds like someone's catching feelings," he teases.

"What?!" you exclaim. "A feeling of _terror_ maybe. Its all fuzzy, I was tipsy. Anyway, at least we shouldn't run into them very often. It's getting hard to restrain myself from slapping the smirk off of Luci's face." 

Remus chuckles, saying nothing further about the Malfoys for the rest of the day. 


	5. Chapter 5

You regret flying to Hogwarts after one hour of your journey, your legs almost numb by the time you got to Hogwarts itself. To make it worse there was more air traffic that day that you didn't think to account for.

Swerving to avoid a blue Ford Anglia motoring along, you rolled your eyes, yelling, "Keep your eyes on the skies!"

As a ginger boy poked his head out of the driver's side window, shouting an apology, you recognised them to be Ronald Weasley. 

"Ronald! What the heck do you think you're doing? Do you even have a _license_?!" you shouted back. 

They didn't have a chance to reply, engine stuttering as the car took a nose dive. 

Grabbing your wand you pointed it straight at the car, "Arresto Momentum!" 

Fortunately, this slowed the car. Unfortunately, the car then veered straight into the Whomping Willow. Speeding down to the ground you cast another spell. 

"Immobulus!" you shouted, the Willow's assault on the car coming to a halt.

The car slid down the branches, crashing down on the boot before leveling off. Every door sprang open, ejecting both boys, suitcases, and animals alike. 

Running over to the boys as the car speeds away through the grounds, you find the boys slightly scratched but otherwise safe. Ronald picks up his Wand, whimpering at the sight of it snapped in half.

"What do you think were you doing?! You could have been _killed_!" you berate, scooping them both together and marching them straight to the castle. "Professor McGonagall is going to go off her head if she finds you!" 

"She already has," comes Minerva's voice from the top of the stairs. 

"Professor," you greet her. 

"The feast has already started, get yourselves cleaned up and meet me back at Professor Dumbledore's office, sharpish," she directs at the 2 boys. "As for you, dear, you can go into the Great Hall for dinner, it has just started." 

"Of course, Professor," you nod, speeding up the stairs and into the Great Hall. 

Remus shoots you a confused glace as he sees you sneak in late. Sitting to his left at a spare chair you begin filling your plate. 

"My arse is dying," you groan, taking a forkful of peas to your mouth.

"Congratulations! I was a bit confused when I saw Minerva slip out a while ago but now-" Remus chuckles. 

"Wishes do come true," you grin, facing him. "No, but honestly I was travelling by broom when Harry and Ronald almost ran me over in what I can only assume is a _stolen_ car."

"Wait, what?" Remus chokes on his pumpkin juice.

"I cheated death, Remy."

Remus puts his head in his hands, "That boy gets closer to being his father every single day." 

"What did I miss?" you ask, more mashed potatoes piling up on your plate. 

"The Weasley girl was sorted into Gryffindor, of course. I think you'll like one of the new Ravenclaws. Luna Lovegood. That's her, the blonde," he nods to the Ravenclaw table. "More mini Snapes in Slytherin of course. As for your house, looks like Hufflepuff has gained some interesting characters."

"Speaking of Sev, where is he? And Dumbledore?"

"Probably away to deal with whatever almost killed you earlier," he explains. 

"I miss the times when the most interesting thing in this school was Myrtle flooding her bathroom," you sighed. 

* * *

  
_Be careful. It's coming._

You awake in a cold sweat, the faint female voice already fading from memory. A headache buzzed behind your eyes. 

Checking the clock on your bedside you found you had overslept almost the full day with it being almost time for dinner. Wrapping your robe tightly around your body to protect against the October chill. 

Halloween had always been one of your favourite times of year, ironically celebrated even by your mother and father when they still accepted you. You remember passing from house to house, dressed up in a sheet with 2 holes cut out for eyes, sweets piling into your plastic cauldron.

Dressing for dinner, you found a peculiar coldness to the castle not present in days previous. You descended the stairs and moved quickly to the Great Hall, sitting at the teacher's table as the house elves busied their selves getting everything set up for dinner. 

Your help was firmly rejected as usual, the elves sweeping through the hall with astonishing speed with plates and cutlery clacking on wood. A slip of paper catches your eye, poking out from under your plate. Unravelling the paper you read. 

_History is repeating itself. Be careful. It's coming._

"Coming? What's coming? Not another goddamn troll surely," you mutter, confused, remembering the whole fiasco with Quirrel the past year. Slipping the paper into your pocket you vow to pick it up with Minerva later in the day. 

As the teachers and students trickle into the hall, the light returns. The glowing of Jack-o-lanterns and carved turnips glowing aside the regular enchanted candles. 

As you take careful bites of neeps you catch Remus' eye. His concerned look at you makes you give him a short wave and a smile that doesn't quite reach your eyes. 

After a dinner consisting of you mainly pushing peas around your plate you're glad to leave, Remus catching up with you in the hallway. 

He reaches out to you, his hand lightly resting on your arm. "Has something happened? You look... _Off_."

"I have a wicked headache most of the time now. I think someone is sending me threats," you explain, putting your hand in your pocket to retrieve the slip of paper and finding nothing but Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans. 

"Oh yeah, the vomit flavour ones are _deadly_ ," he jokes in an attempt to make you smile. 

"It was right here!" you explain. "It said history was repeating itself. That ' _it_ ' was coming. Not to be ungrateful for the death threat or anything but they didn't think to add what was actually coming for me?" 

"Urgh, now that is shoddy," Remus smiles, scooping you under his arm in a hug. "I wouldn't worry about it, Beans. Probably just a prank from one of the mini Snapes. Draco perhaps. Has he been any better in your class?" 

"A little. I think his parents must have had a word with him during the summer. They may not like me but they do care about his grades. Not that it's improved his attitude of late. Did you hear about Hermione?"

Remus nods his head, "Unfortunately. The only thing we can do is-" 

His words are cut off by screams from down the hall. Taking one look at each other you both run towards the source.

Blood drips down the walls, Mrs Norris hanging from a spike by her tail. 

"The Chamber of Secrets has been opened. Enemies of the heir beware," you read, looking over to the 3 usual suspects standing before it. "I will need an explanation for this right now before things look even worse for you three."

"Well you see Professor-" 

"Actually we-" 

"We were coming back from-" 

"One at a time," you ask, slowly unhooking Mrs Norris from the metal wall spike and cradling her to your chest.

"Isn't it obvious, Professor? Clearly Potter is making threats. Enemies of the heir?" a student's voice rings out from behind you. 

"Harry?" you ask softly, the slapping of footsteps on wet stone getting closer behind you. 

"Step aside, step aside!" McGonagall voice echos through the hall.

With one look at the wall, one at Mrs Norris nestled in your arms, and Harry standing in front of you, you can see her mind racing. "Professor, might you care to explain what's going on?" 

"I think Harry was just going to explain for himself, Professor McGonagall," you answer, placing a comforting hand on Harry's back. 

"Well, Potter?" she insists. 

"I- I was just finishing my detention session when I bumped into Hermione and Ron. They saw I missed dinner and were worried about me," he explains.

"We were just heading back to the Great Hall when we found Mrs Norris hanging," Hermione adds. 

"I can confirm that! He was in detention with me," Professor Binns pipes up from the shadows. "I fell asleep see. Didn't realise the time."

"Very well then," Minerva concludes. "Everyone is to go straight to their dormitories, no excuses."

As the students disperse, a grief stricken Filch reaches for his companion. You gently place Mrs Norris in his arms. 

"I don't think she's dead. Merely petrified it seems," you try to console him. 

Minerva fusses, "Albus. If this is starting again..."

Dumbledore reaches his hand up to placate her, "Minerva, we have searched. There is no trace of any Chamber." 

" _Again_?" you ask in confusion. "You mean this has happened before?" 

"Regrettably, yes," Dumbledore replies. "Fifty years ago, a student heir of Slytherin attempted to open a Chamber hidden by Salazar Slytherin after his exile from the school. It is said that a creature lives in the Chamber. A creature with the power to eradicate muggleborn witches and wizards." 

" _History is repeating itself_ ," you whisper.

"Quite. Fifty years ago a student was killed. We must therefore act with caution and utmost vigilance."

"The students should be sent home, surely." 

"We will review the situation as it unfolds," Dumbledore resolves. 

* * *

"Is Dumbledore being serious?" you screech at Remus as he sits in the armchair by your classroom fireplace, swirling a cup of tea and wishing it was something much stronger. 

"As a heart attack," he shrugs in response, bitterly adding, "Student safety hasn't always been his number one priority." 

"But muggleborns. They make up a quarter of the student population!"

"Not to mention yourself," he notes. "Maybe your death threat note was a little more real than I first thought." 

"No shit," you scoff, knocking back a glass of fire whisky before unceremoniously dumping yourself into your chair, swinging both legs over an arm of said chair.


	6. Chapter 6

Your 2nd years filter through the door of your classroom, taking their places at the desks but failing to quieten down. Dirty looks directed at Harry even as they flip open their textbooks. 

"Today, class-" you start, attempting to quieten down the babble of voices.

You sigh deeply, moving back to take a seat at your desk as the rumble of voices goes on. 

"Help!" you shout in mock panic. 

The room goes silent, all heads snapping to you, only Pansy, Hermione, and Lavender standing to attention at the sound. You wave your hand in a motion to request they sit. 

"What would you do if I needed help? Would you run to the sound? Would you run for a teacher? Would you freeze?" you question. "Hands up if you would run to the sound." 

A smattering of hands rise up. 

"Hands up if you would get help to deal with it." 

Another small set of hands rise up. 

"Freeze?" 

A couple of hands hesitantly rise up.

"Its okay to freeze. Its your way of dealing with danger and trauma. It gets you through the experience. It's very brave to run to the sound, not knowing what you'll find at the other end. Similarly, it's brave to know your limits and to get help when it's needed," you explain. "Would it be wrong to get help if you needed it?"

A little cluster of heads shake. 

"Would it be wrong to help if you thought you could? 

The group shakes their heads, "No."

"In that case, would it be fair to say that Harry reaching that scene first doesn't mean anything other than the fact that he is very brave, saw danger, and ran to it?" you reason. 

A few students have the decency to look a little sheepish, others discovering a very interesting line in their textbooks. 

"Chapter 14 discusses pathways. One thing that is set in stone in the future is that nothing is set in stone in the future. Just like you may run to the danger one day, you may freeze in the face of danger another day. It is your actions which can change the situation and in turn change predictions of the future."

A knock at the door pulls you out of your thoughts. Confused as you have a full classroom, you invite the stranger in. 

"Eloquently put, _Professor_ , " Narcissa Malfoy smiles, her tight skirt hugging her hips as she turns to close the door. Her robe almost floats behind her. "Now, I do believe you promised we could sit in on a lesson? It has all been cleared with Professor Dumbledore."

Mouth dry, you nod, pointing to an empty table near the back of the class and enchanting a textbook to swiftly move to her position. 

"T-Three card spreads," you stutter, taking a quick swig of the water in your glass. "Partner up and pull three practice cards. The middle card represents your current dilemma. Left hand card represents ' _Option A_ ' whereas the right hand card represents ' _Option B_ '. I want to see notes on what your dilemma is, Option A, Option B and what the pros and cons are of both."

Narcissa sticks her hand up slightly, "I didn't bring my own cards."

"Detention for lack of study materials," a Gryffindor mutters, smirking away to themselves. 

"Its okay, you can borrow mine," you offer, picking a spare deck from your drawer and sitting it neatly on her table. 

She thanks you as you descend the steps to your own desk, face burning. 

"Professor?" a Slytherin girl's voice calls out. "I'm a little confused by this one." 

"Of course, I'll be right over!" you answer, taking a long breath before you turn back to attend to your students. 

* * *

When the students have left for their next class you find Narcissa still sitting in her little chair, studying the cards in front of her. 

"I must say, you are an excellent teacher," she laughs, finally looking up at you. 

"The kids seem to respond to it," you smile awkwardly, trying very hard not to stare for too long. 

"If only I had you," she starts.

"Erm," you murmur. 

"As my teacher when I attended. The previous Professor was somewhat scatterbrained so I came out of school believing Divination to be nothing more than a fool's gambit."

"Oh, of course. Did the cards tell you anything interesting?" 

"Hmm," she sighs. "Nothing I didn't already know I fear." 

"Want an expert opinion?" you joke. 

"Can you read for me?"

"Sure. Come take a seat." 

As she makes her way down the stairs and settles demurely into the armchair at your desk, you have a supremely hard task at keeping your eyes off of her swinging hips and on the job at hand. 

"What do you wish to know?" you say, theatrically putting on an air of mysticism. 

"How many times you've thought about fucking me on this very desk?"

You do a double take, making sure you heard exactly what she had said, " _I'm sorry_?" 

"You heard me," she smiles.

"W-Well that's not a very card related question, you see..." 

"I see, I see. In that case, can the cards tell me what the weather will be like tomorrow?" Her index finger lazily strokes a path across her bottom lip. "Wouldn't want to get unneccessarily _wet_ you know."

Shuffling the cards to distract yourself from the thoughts flashing through your head, you place the first down on the table.

"Well?" 

"The cards say you're a fucking liar," you smile. "And a forecast of proverbial rain."

"How insightful," she praises, reaching over the desk to pick up the card you drew.

An insistent knocking at the door makes you both jump.

"Narcissa, darling, we must leave at once," the voice of Lucius Malfoy reverberates from the other side of the door. "Draco is currently training on the pitch, you wished to watch did you not?" 

"Until next time," Narcissa smiles warmly, slipping the card into her purse and calmly walking out of the door. 

* * *

"I'm telling you, Moons! That woman will be the absolute death of me!" 

Remus was doubled over laughing, sitting on the very armchair Narcissa had sashayed away from earlier that very day. 

"I was wondering why the chair felt slightly _moist_ ," he laughs, tears streaming from his eyes. 

"Its not funny! She's been sending me sex dreams this whole summer and now suddenly she comes out with this?!" 

"How do you know it wasn't all just another little sex dream?" Remus splutters.

"Dumbledore confirmed she came to visit my class. I don't remember falling asleep at any point during my class with the 2nd years..."

"This is _gold_ ," he states with a little added chef's kiss for emphasis, using that same hand to then shield himself from the cushion you send flying at him.

* * *

"So, we're all just going to ignore the impending _threat of death_ to all muggleborns and play a little Quidditch?" you whisper to Remus, sitting at the back of the teacher's section of the stands as Madam Hooch steps out onto the field.

"Hey, Malfoy didn't bribe his way onto the team for it to be cancelled, Beans," he snickers, trying to be quiet as the parents of said boy were sitting in the front row of the same stand.

Tears come to your eyes as you try not to burst out laughing. Narcissa turns her head to give you a small look up and down before turning back to the match.

" _Oops_ ," you mumble, Remus making a kissy face to mock you.

You elbow him a little too hard and he loses his balance, stumbling a little too heavily to be discrete. As Minerva turns to the source of the noise, you both snap straight and look ahead as if nothing happened.

You're pulled out of your jovial mood with a bang. A snap of bone to be completely accurate.

" _Fuck_ ," you whisper, clambering down the tower with Remus in tow to Harry, lying seated on the grass pitch, golden snitch in one hand, barely attached arm in the other.

"I caught it, Professor," he beams, cradling his other arm to him.

"Of course you did," you roll your eyes. "One of these days you're going to retrieve it without damaging yourself."

Madam Hooch comes running, assessing his arm before asking Remus to help in sweeping him away to the hospital wing.

You watch on as Matron Pomfrey performs medical magic on his arm, advising a stay overnight in the hospital wing for observation.

"I'll stay with him," you offer, moving to sit on the bed next to him as Matron administers the last dose of medicine.

* * *

The sound of muttering pulls you out of your dreamless sleep.

"Harry, are you okay?" you mumble, turning to face his bed.

With no reply, you assume he was only talking in his sleep. Soon after, the hospital wing is in a flurry of activity as the body of a petrified Colin Creavey is lain in a bed opposite, a screen pulled around his bedside.

His camera, once opened, only emits a plume of black smoke.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: implied rape (second section), implied eating disorder (third section).  
> See bottom notes for chapter summary and to avoid triggers 🥰

* * *

Dumbledore's answer to the petrifications is to start a Duelling Club. Naturally this would assume that the creature has a sense of honour and chivalry and takes a bow before attempting to kill your kids. It's safe to say that the lack of urgency proposed by Dumbledore is starting to rub you up the wrong way.

As Severus ascends the stairs to the platform, Remus climbs up to meet him.

"No hard feelings?" Remus proposes before blocking Snape's first jinx. "That was an easy one, clearly we're friends."

This goes on until you call time, both men breathing heavily and claiming they had the upper hand. The students cheer for the demonstration but you're pretty sure you just witnessed attempted murder.

As you stand up on the platform to take Remus' place, you find your opponent to be Minerva. You say silent prayer to Merlin and any Gods or Goddesses willing to listen.

It turns out you can hold your own, deftly blocking each jinx and hex that comes your way until you finally time out and bow. 

' _She taught you well_ ,' you smile. 

"Well if that whole thing with Cissa doesn't work out, you know Minerva is-" Remus mutters to you as move to stand beside him. 

"There isn't a thing!" you whisper harshly. "She's married, unavailable, and that's the end of that."

* * *

Delirious moans of pleasure ring around your head as you sink deeper into your mattress, the weight of the woman on top pressing in all the right places as she rocks her hips to slide back and forth along your thigh. 

"We have to stop meeting like this," you giggle as she leans down to trail kisses over your breasts, black and blonde hair tickling your belly. 

Narcissa is so soft and gentle, all barely-there touches and pizzicato gasps that make your abs clench. 

Your vision distorts as she pulls back, bleach blonde hair spilling from Lucius's head as he moves his hand around your neck, thrusting his hips harshly and squeezing a little too tight to be of any enjoyment. When you try to cry out, no sound escapes. 

You awake in a fit, scrabling at your neck and tears streaming down your face. 

_What the fuck was that_? 

You don't manage to fall asleep again, instead sitting in your armchair next to the fire, watching the cold winter sun rise through the window. 

* * *

By the time of Christmas break, both you and Remus are thoroughly ready to spend the full experience day-drinking and eating yourselves into a food coma. After delivering the little gifts for the students to the owl post in the morning, you and Remus had settled down in your classroom.

"Why are we still here, Moo?" you groggily murmur from the blanket fort the two of you constructed in your classroom.

"Something about you not wanting the students to die and feeling guilty for leaving them behind," Remus laughs. 

"Oh yeah. Past me is a self-sacrificing bitch," you smile, leaning your head on Remus's shoulder. 

"Have you been sleeping? After, _y'know_..."

"It hasn't happened again since. Nothing. Not even _her_."

Remus wraps an arm around you, squeezing you tight, "And that girl Bea from summer?" 

"Urgh, she was _cute_. But honestly, look at everything that's happening. Demons running wild all over the school, not to mention the Chamber creature," you joke. "I don't want to drag anyone else into this life if I can help it. Not right now at least."

A knock at the door startles you both until Luna pops her head around the curtain. 

"Hello Professors, I can come back if I'm interrupting?" she smiles. 

"Of course not, Luna, what can I do you for?" you offer. 

Bringing two small parcels from behind her back she presents them both to you, taking a little skip over to your fort and sitting down in front of the fire. 

"For me?" you squeak. "You shouldn't have!" 

"Only one is from me, this one," she explains, pointing to a blue sparkly paper wrapped packet. "The other one was delivered to your table at dinner but you weren't there so I brought it with me." 

You open the blue parcel first, smiling as you pull out a little cork pendant attached to some string, "Its very pretty, Luna, thank you!" 

"To protect you from the wrackspurts," she says, leaning in conspiratorial. 

"That's very thoughtful," you add, slipping the string necklace around your neck. "And how did you get on at dinner?" 

"It was okay, a little better than before," she smiles.

Stroking the hair out of her face, and giving her shoulder a little pat, you nod over at Remus. "We are very proud of you, aren't we Professor Lupin?"

Remus gives two thumbs up, making Luna laugh. 

"What's in the other one, Beans? I mean, _Professor_..?" Remus stumbles, although not touching his whisky since Luna skipped through the door, the past 4 (5? 7?) glasses were catching up to him. 

Giving him a sly glance, you carefully open the packaging- a little black packet with golden ribbons. As the cards slip into your hand you note the thick card stock, the gold gilt edges, the astrological geometry symbols stamped in gold gilt over black on the reverse of the cards. You turn the deck around to see the faces only to see the very first card to be the 2 of Cups. The same denomination of card you pulled for a certain Narcissa Malfoy earlier in the year. 

Gasping slightly, you turn back to face Remus. 

"They're very pretty!" Luna exclaims. "Someone must really appreciate you." 

In mock shock, Remus takes a sharp inhale of breath, "A secret admirer, Luna?"

"How romantic!" she giggles, eyes lighting up. 

"Yes, very pretty," you admit, thumbing through the images. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Dumbledore imposes Duelling Club in response to Chamber creature threat, you are not impressed. Snape Vs Lupin duel ends in a draw. You Vs Minerva ends in a narrow draw. Cissa comes - heh- to you again in a dream which turns to a nightmare when she pulls back and you find Lucius in her place. Christmas break day-drinking and fort building with Remus! Luna visits and gifts you a cork necklace on a piece of string which you wear with pride! Narcissa seems to have posted you a pack of (expensive af) tarot cards with the first card being the 2 of Cups, the same card you drew for her previously!
> 
> The drama!


	8. Chapter 8

It takes both Charity of Muggle Studies and yourself hours to decorate the Great Hall for Valentine's Day. Remus is standing in as ' _creative director_ ' which so far mostly includes eating a copious amount of chocolate and telling you the garlands need to be higher on one side. When he takes a break from the stress, he finds the time to cast charms on some of the suits of armour which now clatter through the castle singing or reading poems on command. 

"Moo, you could help you know?" you sigh, placing a little pink heart sticker to his forehead. 

"I am helping! Look," he exclaims, turning to the nearest suit of armour. "Some words for my friend here?" 

The suit of armour bows dramatically, knocking off his own helmet which rolls down the corridor. 

"So impressive, I could have sworn I was wearing socks this morning," you deadpan. 

"Roses are Red, Violets are Blue, I am gay, and so are you," he smiles.

"Wetter than Myrtle's bathroom," you smirk. 

"It needs some work, I know." 

His protests are cut short by your owl as it swoops past your arm, neatly depositing a note in your hand. You unroll the paper to read. 

_Meet me at the top of the Astronomy Tower at 7pm._

Remus peeks over your shoulder to read the note. 

"Narcissa?" he probes.

"There's no name. It could be anyone. Could be the Chamber creature for all we know," you babble. 

"Are you going?"

"No."

"But are you though? I know you've been keeping the perfect dress sitting in your closet-" 

"I'm not going!" 

* * *

"There, Beans, you look great!" Remus praises. "I'll walk you up, clear out the kids and watch the door." 

"For Merlin's sake, Remus," you groan, touching up your lipstick. "Its probably not even her! This is going to be so embarrassing if we get there and its just one of the kids' pranks."

"Then you'll still look gorgeous while hexing them all back to their dorms. Now come on!" 

Remus pushes you towards the door, leading you by the arm down the stairs of the North Tower and up to the Observatory of the Astronomy Tower. 

At the sounds of your footsteps the kids seem to flee for cover. You leave a few foil wrapped condoms on the stairs, to Remus' muffled laughter.

"When your sex is safer than your school," you whisper, grinning. 

When you reach the top of the tower you take a deep breath, slowly cracking open the door to find an empty room. 

"There's no one there, Moons. I told you it was just a prank," you sigh, looking back to close over the door. 

Suddenly, a shadow appears at the balcony of the Observatory. As it turns to face you, you know exactly who invited you. 

" _You_ ," you smirk. 

" _Me_!" Narcissa laughs. "Well are you just going to stand there all night or are you going to come up?" 

Turning to see Remus giving you a thumbs up you realise that he was in on this the whole time. Making a mental note to hex the fuck out of him later, you open the door wider and step into the Observatory. 

Even in the low moonlight, _especially in the low moonlight_ , Narcissa is stunning. A long, elegant green dress hugs her body, flaring out to swish around her ankles as she walks towards you. Her hair is pinned up in such a way that her neck is exposed. As your eyes trail down her figure and back up to reach her eyes you find yourself a little lost for words.

"Cat got your tongue?" she teases. 

"Y-you look beautiful. As always. Any special occasion?" 

Her laughter is the most comforting sound in the world, like being hugged on all sides. 

"Can't a woman just invite her favourite distinguished Professor out on a date?" 

"So this is a date..?"

"It can be, if you want it to be," she picks out a rose from a basket on the floor and slides it behind your ear. 

"I didn't thank you. For the cards. They were very thoughtful," you smile, allowing yourself to be led to the balcony railings. 

Slipping off your shoes, you dangle your feet over the edge of the platform, one leg on either side of the metal banister with Narcissa sitting at your side, legs occasionally brushing yours. 

"I thought you would enjoy them. They were from a specialist shop I visited in Venice earlier in the summer," she confesses. 

You sit in the silence of the night, watching the stars glitter away, oblivious to the events unfolding below them. 

"You haven't ' _visited_ ' in a while," you whisper.

"I know. I apologise, its been a little _hectic_... I missed you. Hence-" she gestures to herself and the room. 

As she lowers her arms she takes your hand in hers. 

"Is this okay?" she asks, almost cautious not to overstep.

You nod in response, giving her hand a little squeeze. 

You can't help but think of how ridiculous the whole situation is. This woman has probably seen every dirty thought you've had about her and has the audacity to fantasise about fucking you regularly but here you both are, like teenagers at their first Yule Ball.

Cissa laughs, leaning over to rest her head on your shoulder, "Sorry, its a little different when you're here, in the flesh. I don't know how far is too far. In my head I had a whole little plan worked out but then you showed up wearing that dress and I can't remember a thing." 

Your next breaths smell of her perfume; jasmine and rose. 

"Personally, I find that all of your dresses would look better on the floor," you mutter, instantly turning beetroot as you turn your head to stare at the top of her head.

Surprised, she jerks her head up and you find yourself being cracked in the face. 

" _Ow_ ," you giggle in pain, clutching your chin. 

"Oh fuck, I'm sorry!" she fusses, clutching your face between her hands. "Nothing broke did it?" 

"No, it's okay!" you laugh, throwing caution to the wind. "Kiss it better?" 

Narcissa doesn't hesitate after that, hands sliding from your cheek to grasp the hair at the back of your head as the kiss deepens. 

As you move away from the edge of the platform you find her hands starting to wander.

"Off?" you whisper, swinging your leg over hers to straddle her lap as she reclines back on the stone floor. 

Cissa nods quickly, causing some of her hair to tumble from the pins. You slowly pull down the zip at the back of your dress, letting it pool around your waist. The cold air doesn't last for long as her fingers are quickly caressing your breasts, thumbs lightly stroking over your nipples.

Tugging at the fabric around her thighs you start pulling up the skirt of her dress. "Can I..?" 

"If you don't I'll be disappointed," she smirks, pulling you down by the hair back to her lips as you somewhat frantically roll the fabric up to her waist. 

Your fingertips trail patterns across her thighs as you slot your leg between hers. Placing soft kisses down her neck as her hips squirm below you, soft moans escaping her lips as your hands reach down to toy with the hem of her underwear.

"Please?" she gasps, her bucking hips seeking friction.

Indulging her, your fingers move the pesky lace out of the way. 

"You're dripping already," you giggle, leaning over her to give little soft kisses. "So excited for little old me, I'm honoured."

You take your time exploring what makes her breath catch and by the time she's fully sated the 10pm bell is ringing in protest. Harped up in a blanket, you sit in between Cissa's legs, her arms wrapped around you as she presses soft kisses to your neck until she freezes at the sound of the 10th bell. 

"Shit! _Shit_ , I have to go!" she panics, quickly throwing on her dress and zipping it up the side before coming back to wrap you back up in the blanket. "Sorry, darling." 

"So soon?" you ask as she peppers kisses over your face. 

"Unfortunately, it's not something I can delay," she tries to explain, pinning your flyaway hair behind your ear with her fingers. "Now listen, I need you to be extra careful in the castle. There's a creature roaming around and I fear it may well wish to target you."

" _Be careful, it's coming_ ," you remember. 

"Exactly," she nods, handing you a small mirror compact. "Use it when you feel unsafe, and try not to wander alone."

"How do you know so much about this?" your brows furrow as you take her mirror.

"My husband likes the sound of his own voice a little too much sometimes," she admits. "Please be safe, darling."

She slips her robes over her shoulders, kissing the top of your head before slipping away into the shadows leaving you curled up with her mirror and a blanket that smells of jasmine and rose.


	9. Chapter 9

Sitting in the hospital wing's chair between Colin and Justin, you flip the page in your book to read the next page out loud.

"I did it, Miss Honey!" you read, not able to go any further forward from the commotion making its way through the doors of the infirmary.

"Make way, make way!" Matron calls as two petrified bodies are stretchered into place on beds opposite. 

Harry and Ron shuffle in soon after, crowding around a body you now recognise to be that of Hermione. Closing your book, you stand behind the boys, clapping your hand softly down on their heads.

"Professor," Ron starts. "She left during the game, to go to the library. Said it was important." 

"This was found between them," Minerva adds, holding an ornate hand mirror. "Does this mean anything to either one of you?" 

Harry and Ron shake their heads and stay behind after the others leave to sit by her side.

"Okay boys, time for bed," you announce at 7pm, having reached the end of your book and starting an entirely new one. "I promised McGonagall you'd go with no trouble so please don't make me a liar."

They say their goodbyes to Hermione and follow you up the stairs to the portrait entrance to Gryffindor Tower. You wait until both are safely inside before moving to sit on the stairs higher up and out of sight. 

Shortly after, the portrait opens but seemingly no students exit.

"Harry," you call out, hoping that you've caught them at the right time. 

A mop of black hair pops out from seemingly nowhere before both boys emerge from the cloak. 

"And where do you think you're going?" you ask quietly. 

"Hagrid's. He has the answers, I just know it," Harry reasons. 

"Well you're not going," you start, seeing their faces fall. " _Alone_ that is. Room for a little one?" 

Both boys grin as you tiptoe down the stairs. "We should be fine with just the two of you hidden until we reach the main entrance, after which I would be in some bother for being out wandering."

As the three of you slip out of the castle doors and make your way to Hagrid's hut you start to hear their theory. 

"Hagrid? Surely not," you laugh. "I know he keeps some weird looking creatures but he wouldn't keep anything that killed a student." 

With a knock on the door of his hut, Hagrid reluctantly opens up. 

"The boys have some questions, Hagrid," you explain, nudging them into the hut as Hagrid steps aside. 

Hagrid denies all wrongdoing but before he can explain any further a knock sounds out at the door. You quickly put the cloak over yourself and the two boys, moving into the farthest corner to hide. 

The first to enter is Minister Fudge, closely followed by the Albus Dumbledore. 

"You must understand Hagrid, your past is intertwined with that of the Chamber. We must be seen to be taking action," Fudge says, holding out a piece of paper for Hagrid's arrest.

The door swings open once more to reveal the familiar face of Lucius Malfoy. 

"Ah, Dumbledore, Minister Fudge you're both here, excellent," he starts, pulling from his robes a signed roll of paper. "I have here signatures from all twelve school governors calling for your immediate resignation. We feel that these attacks on the school have been very badly dealt with." 

Dumbledore nods, giving no argument, "While I may not be at Hogwarts in person, you will find that I will only truly have left this school when none here are loyal to me. You will also find that help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it." 

Giving a sly look to the corner where all 3 of you are hidden he then follows Malfoy out of the hut. 

"Any last words, Hagrid?" Fudge probes. 

"Well, I should think that if anyone needed to find the truth, all they need to is follow the spiders. Yeah. Just follow the spiders. And someone needs to feed Fang for me while I'm gone!" 

After walking the boys firmly to bed with the express instructions to inform you before doing anything further, you groggily transform into a black cat, Fang trailing behind you as you pounce up the stairs, only returning back to your human form when you're curled into the duvet covers on your bed. 

Fang tries and fails to jump up onto your bed after you, whining at you from the floor. Taking pity on the poor boy you levitate him up onto the bed and tuck him under the covers.

"I know baby," you soothe, giving his stupid head a clap as he struggles to settle down. "Guess this is the bedroom for loners now."

* * *

You wake up after a dreamless sleep to the smell of jasmine, rose, and wet dog slobber. 

"Good morning, Fang," you voice, earning a very sloppy lick to the ear. "Food time?"

You get out of bed quicker than usual and dress yourself ready for the day. With Fang as your shadow, you make your way into the Great Hall and take a seat between Remus and Severus.

"Good morning, baby!" Remus coos.

"Good morning, _sweetheart_?" you reply before turning to see Remus giving Fang some chicken and a slice of bacon. "Oh."

"So I see you've heard the big news?"

"You could say that," you laugh. "Caught the Usual Suspects trying to sneak last night."

"What was that? Potter and Weasley sneaking out of the castle?" Severus muscles his way into your conversation. 

"No, I marched them right back to bed. Next thing I know Fang's lodging in my bedroom rent free," you reply. 

"Hmpf," Snape voices. "Unlike them to listen to orders." 

"Maybe they just don't listen to you, honey," you laugh. "I think big, tough, manly Severus Snape is just too much for them to aspire to, so they act out because they know they've already lost in life." 

Severus mock laughs, " _Hilarious_ , what's next the Three Broomsticks Stand up on Saturdays?" 

"Only if you'll do it too," you wink, patting Sev's arm and popping a piece of toast into your mouth. "Has there been any word on Hermione and Penelope?" 

"They were found outside the library," Remus answers, still feeding little pieces of sandwich chicken to Fang. "Not sure why they were both there, possibly Clearwater was escorting Granger back to her dorm or the Quidditch match when they were set upon."

"If only we knew where it was hiding," you sigh.

* * *

"Fang, please just do a poop so we can go back inside," you plead, knowing full well that this bitch is stalling. 

Five minutes and many false alarms later, you hear what sounds like screaming and a car engine coming from the Forbidden Forest. As the fated blue Ford reverses it's way into a handbrake turn next to the hut, you pray to Merlin that whoever steps out will not be the two boys you explicitly told not to act without you. 

Once again proved a fool, Harry and Ron swing open the doors of the Anglia only for the car to swerve and reenter the Forest. 

"You better hope that this is You-know-who himself using Polyjuice potion because if not, you're both about to be in very serious trouble," you warn. 

"Sorry Professor," Ron says dejectedly, making an effort not to look you directly in the eyes. 

"Hagrid's monster was a spider," Harry blurts out. "He's not behind the attacks on students. Even though he did try to eat Ron and I..."

Lowering down into a squat, you press your palms together, resting your index finger along the length of your nose. 

"Okay. Okay!" you laugh. "Why not? Did the monster spider tell you what the creature was? Or where to find it?" 

"Aragog. And no. Not really. It was kind of hard to talk once he sent his spider children to eat us," Harry replies. 

"Of course, how silly of me," you admit, rounding the boys up and marching them back to the castle, Fang bounding out of the treeline to follow you. 

* * *

"Professor?" 

"Yes, Harry?" you reply, wondering why he has chosen to approach you halfway through dinner at the teacher's table. 

"Can we speak outside?"

Dropping the fork full of peas that was halfway to your face, you nod before following the boy out to the corridor, closely followed by Ron.

"Hermione left some clues," he says, passing you a crumpled piece of paper that has been ripped out of a book.

Smoothing out the page, you read the word ' _Basilisk_ ' emblazoned as the title of the page. Scanning through the page you find a handwritten addition ' _pipes_ '.

"Clever, clever girl!" you exclaim. "And I think I know exactly where to go next. Come on, we need Professor McGonagall."

* * *

"Its truly out of hand now, a girl has been taken!" you hear Minerva explaining to Matron Pomfrey. 

"Who? Who was taken?" you ask, pushing through the door to the infirmary. 

"There you are!" Minerva sighs. "Its the Weasley girl. Ginny. With Dumbledore gone everything has escalated."

"Harry, Ronald, and I think we know where to go next. Make sure you inform her family. We'll find her," you promise, leading the boys through the halls to Myrtle's bathroom. 


	10. Chapter 10

Myrtle spins through the air as you enter the bathroom.

"Professor! And friends!" she giggles. "Hiya, Harry!" 

"Hello, Myrtle. Unfortunately we're not here for a social call."

" _Moaning Myrtle_? That's your big plan?" Ron blurts out.

"Ronald, you would be pretty unhappy too if you died in a bathroom and were stuck there for all eternity," you explain. "Please, show some decorum."

"Sorry," he murmurs. 

Myrtle, slightly put out by his behaviour, decides to wander off to wallow by the window. 

"You once told me of how you passed away. It was right here, a creature. With yellow glowing eyes," you probe, unfolding the book page with the Basilisk's likeness. 

"That's right. I was hiding you see. They were making fun of my glasses. I heard a boy speaking and opened the stall door to tell them to go away. All I remember is seeing a big pair of yellow eyes... And then I died," she sighs. 

"Do you remember where you saw them?" Harry asks from behind you. 

"Over there" she points behind you. "By that sink." 

Taking steps towards the sink, Harry spots a strange snake symbol emblazoned on a tap.

"I think it's this one, Professor," he calls to you. 

"Harry, I'll need you to ask the Chamber to open. Parseltongue, like you used in Duelling Club," you request. "And thank you, Myrtle. Would you keep an eye on the boys for me while I'm gone?"

"What?" Ronald shouts. 

"No way!" Harry joins. 

"That's my sister down there!" 

"I appreciate that, Ron, but you're a _child_! I can't put students in danger just to serve my own agenda," you explain. 

They stand, cross armed in front of the sink. 

"Well I'm not opening anything until you let us come with you," Harry propositions, Ron nodding along. 

"I can't force you to stay. But please know that this is dangerous! Professor McGonagall will definitely have words with me over this." 

"That's a risk I'm willing to take," he states, turning to open the Chamber. 

When the sink slides away to reveal a long, dark tunnel, Harry and Ron waste no time in throwing themselves down it. You can hear Ron's screams echo until the thud at the bottom. 

"These kids will be the death of me," you whisper before taking a leap into the tunnel.

* * *

Water splashes as the 3 of you scamper up the long, black, stone walkway. Snake gargoyles line the sides, coming to a large stone head focal point. Ginny lies unmoving at the end of the walkway, a boy in Hogwarts robes standing beside her. 

"Ginny!" the boys shout, running to her side. 

"You. What did you do to her?" you whisper, slowly approaching the stranger. 

"Wouldn't you like to know, Professor?" he says with a smirk. 

Harry pulls out his wand, pointing it to the boy who quickly snatches it from him. Ron, in turn, moves to disarm the boy. Before you can fully grab him, the spell backfires sending both you and Ronald sprawling backwards. As you cradle him to you as best you can to soften his fall, your head cracks against wet stone turning your vision black. 

* * *

"Woah!" you faintly hear a girl's voice call out. 

"Thanks, Fawkes," Harry's voice replies. "I'm fine, it's more the Professor I'm worried about." 

Grasping the back of your head you slowly sit up to find Harry, Ron, and Ginny crowded around your feet. Fawkes, Dumbledore's pet phoenix rests on your shin. Looking to the left you see the Basilisk, dead. 

"What did I miss?" you ask, sincerely confused, lowering your hand to see red blood dripping. 

"Oh, nothing much," Harry grins, passing you a black leather bound diary with a hole torn straight through it. 

"Please don't tell anyone that I had a little nap," you warn to the giggles of the kids. 

* * *

  
Dumbledore stands at the podium in front of a full Great Hall, giving his end of term speech. 

"At least this year he won't have to give out bogus points for his favourite house," you murmur to Remus and Severus sitting on either side of you. "This year, I have let students be petrified by a giant monster while letting literal children take care of my problems. Oh, and minus 50 points to Slytherin for wearing green because 'f' you!" 

Severus gives a rare brief smile before thinking better of it and straightening his mouth out. Remus has to hide his face behind his hands as he shakes silently at your commentary. 

"My beard is this long to accommodate my numerous atrocities," Remus joins in, tears streaming down his cheeks. 

Luckily your outburst of laughter coincides with a roar of applause as Hagrid strides into the Hall after his stint in Azkaban.

"Here's to another year, successfully survived!" you raise a toast to Severus and Remus, clinking your cup with both men. 

"Here's to another year of exam prep ruined!" Remus joins, clinking cups. 

" _Sev_ , anything to add?" you smile. 

"To not having to listen to your bumbling for the next couple of months?" he scoffs. 

"You can do better than that, surely?"

"To your declining healths," he states, raising his cup slightly and downing the contents. 

Remus turns to you, "That's the sweetest thing he's said to us." 

"I knew he loved us," you state. 

"I'm in hell. This is it." 


	11. Chapter 11

As the summer holidays drag on, you've been seeing less and less of Narcissa. Now barely showing up in your dreams, the only conversations you have are entirely one sided through Owl Post- Narcissa insisting that you didn't send anything to the Manor but constantly sending you little gifts and handwritten notes. To make matters worse, Remus has been very secretive for the past few weeks and doesn't want anyone visiting him. You were stuck skulking through Diagon Alley and gardening to keep yourself entertained. 

Every day this week had been the same. Petting the cats in the Emporium, telling yourself firmly that you did not need to get any form of toad or frog, browsing the stacks at Flourish and Blotts before finishing the day with 2 hours of ice cream at Fortescue's and people watching from the little table next to the window.

Today, you bumped into Hermione at the Emporium, the cat you had been conversing with for the past week firmly in her grasp. 

"Hello, Professor," she greets you fondly. "Do you like him?" 

"Crookshanks here is my best friend actually," you reply, leaning down to scritch behind his ears. "Are you thinking of taking him home?" 

Hermione nods, a big smile on her face as she declares, "Of course I am! He is just adorable."

"Good choice," you smile. "He's a good boy." 

Hermione says her goodbyes as you move to pet the red-eyed tree frogs.

_I don't need you. I don't need you._

"Back again I see," the shopkeeper chuckles. 

"Sorry, I know you must hate window shoppers."

"Nonsense! You make my shop look a little busier," he admits. "Do none of them take your fancy?" 

"That's the problem, they all do," you groan. "I couldn't have a pet. My life is a little hectic with work. It wouldn't be fair."

"Its good that you recognise that. I'd rather you returning to see them than see you returning them."

"It doesn't stop me from crumbling at how outrageously handsome they are," you laugh as a toad decides to boop your finger to its chin. 

Saying your goodbyes to the shopkeeper, you move towards your next target. 

Hector grins as he sees you sneak through the front door, narrowly avoiding the caged Monster Book of Monsters from snapping at your robes. 

"Afternoon," you nod to him before leaping up the stairs to the new arrivals in the Divination section hidden at the back of the store. 

Head deeply buried in the newest issue of the Tea and Tarot magazine, you barely registered the bell ringing on the front door. It wasn't until you were enveloped into a hug from behind that you noticed she was there. 

"How did I know you'd be darkening the door of this establishment?" 

"Cissa," you smile, delicately closing the magazine and reshelving it before spinning around in her arms to face her. "I thought you were in Paris until next week?" 

"Our trip was cut short. Some ministry incident," she explains, running her hands down the lapels of your robes. "I see you got my parcel?" 

"The height of Parisian fashion," you giggle. "I told you, you don't need to keep buying me things. Between the robes, and the necklaces, and the _lingerie_." 

"Well the lingerie is a gift for us both really," she smirks, thumb running across your jawline as she takes your chin in her hand. 

Rolling your eyes, you realise the there are 2 prominent figures missing. "Are you here alone?" 

"Draco is lazing around at home and Lucius is at the Ministry. I fancied a little outing. To be very honest, I was hoping I'd see you here."

"In that case, I'm just going to go pay for the textbooks downstairs. Would you care for some ice cream?"

Narcissa takes a moment to think over her answer, "Can we get it to take away?" 

"Of course! I'll just be a minute," you beam, leaping downstairs to the till, Narcissa taking her time before following you down. 

"Let me guess, our whole stock of Divination textbooks?" Hector asks. 

"Wow, you should have my job with work like that," you joke, smiling as he disappears through the back to collect the books. 

Slipping all of the books into your backpack you pass him the regular pouch of coins as he stamps your loyalty cards. 

"Can I leave these here for this list of names as usual? If you can put it towards their purchases I would be very grateful," you request, handing over a list of names that has sadly only grown in the past few years. 

"Sure, I'll see to it myself!" Hector agrees before sitting them under the desk for safe keeping. 

"I'll get you there," Narcissa smiles as you move to exit the shop.

You browse the list of ice cream flavours as you wait for her to catch up. As you come across 'Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans' you can't help but think of how much of a culinary disaster that would be to taste. 

Finally settling on the Butterbeer flavour after trying half of the board already in the previous week of boredom eating, you place your order to go. 

"At this point you're half of my revenue. And it's summer, so that's saying something!" the shopkeeper laughs. 

Florean's face drops slightly as Narcissa walks in. 

"Mrs Malfoy, how can I be of service today?" he says, all formalities.

"Ah, she's with me, sorry. I'm paying both," you smile.

"No, I couldn't let you do that. I'll pay!" she argues. 

"Its okay, I've got it! What did you want?" 

"... Irish coffee, please," she directs to the shopkeeper who quickly sets to work filling a little tub. 

"I popped in some free wafers and a little extra for you, since you're a regular," Florean winks, handing over the white paper bag. 

"That's very sweet and very unnecessary, but thank you!" you grin, handing over your coins and taking the bag out of his hands. As you wave back to him when you leave you catch a glance of him letting out a huge sigh of relief to see Narcissa leaving happy. 

Narcissa looks around to check for witnesses before holding out an arm for you to take, apparating you both out of Diagon Alley. 

You don't recognise the beach you appear on, barely a person in sight despite the lack of clouds in the sky and the warm, slightly breezy day.

"You don't strike me as a sea and sand person," you laugh.

"On occasion, it's been a while. I figured you'd enjoy the view."

"The best part of any view is when you're in it. We can go somewhere else if you'd prefer?" 

Narcissa shakes her head, directing you to sit down with her on a metal bench overlooking the beach.

"Okay, if you're going to take me to a beach, you'd better be prepared for the full beach experience," you grin, slipping off your shoes and socks and chucking them unceremoniously into your backpack.

Making a beeline directly for the sea, you roll up the hem of your robes, tucking the extra fabric under your belt to protect it from the water. Somewhat idiotically you run right into a wave, forgetting how cold the water still is and shrieking, hopping back onto the sand as Narcissa openly laughs at you from the bench. 

You hold out your hand for her to join you, pouting when she stays put. The face seems to work, her eyes rolling as she attempts to walk through the sand in heels. Running back to her, you pick her up over your shoulder and carry her over to the water, delighting in the way she laughs at you.

"Shoes are coming off," you say as she flicks off her heels into the sand below. 

"Okay, okay, full beach experi- Oh _fuck_ that's cold!" 

The waves lap over her feet as you let her down onto the sand, scooping up her heels and slipping them into your bag. 

"It's the UK, what do you expect?" you laugh, taking her arm and guiding her back over to the dry sand as you start to walk along the shore. 

"Do you have cutlery in that endless bag of yours?"

"No, but I do have little wooden scoop things" you start. 

"How do you eat with that? You're a human, not a shovel."

"Muggle ice cream comes with coloured plastic spoons. Everything tastes better with the green one," you state, matter-of-factly. "I have spares if you prefer?" 

Digging through your bag to pull out a little blue spoon, holding it out to her.

"Full beach experience," you laugh as she tries her best to use it. "See, not that bad!"

"I have a question. Well, lots of questions really," Cissa says in between scoops.

"Sure, what do you want to know? I'm pretty much an open book."

"At Flourish and Blotts. Why do you buy the textbooks yourself? Hector told me you don't get reimbursed from the school. Surely your wage doesn't cover that cost?"

"Oh. Well, Divination isn't really a priority compared to flashier subjects. The textbooks aren't that pricy compared to a set of Goshawks, you know? I just figured that I could help out a little bit, whether they could afford them originally or not. The stampcards that I get from buying the books also go towards other books. Hector keeps my little list of some of the poorest students and they get one of my full stamp cards discounted from their total. Its not much, the price of one of the Potions books maybe, but hopefully it helps," you explain. "And no, my month's wage doesnt cover it but my grandmother had some savings put aside. When she died I ended up using them for it. I think she'd be happy to know she was helping baby witches and wizards learn."

Narcissa doesn't speak for some time, steadily eating away at her ice cream. 

"Can I try some off yours?" you ask her. 

She scoops up a big chunk of ice cream and offers in to you. 

"Bitter, but good!" you laugh, your face scrunching up at the taste. 

"Where do you live?" Narcissa questions, pointedly. 

"Do you want to see?" you offer. 


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: talk of abusive relationships
> 
> Wolfstar begins *-*

* * *

You apparate directly to your front door, suddenly very conscious that it is nowhere near the luxury she's accustomed to.

"Its not much, I know but-" you start.

"Is that a spell garden?" she laughs, moving to touch the Dirigible Plums. "And the _flowers_!"

"Yeah, a labour of love. My grandmother started it. Wouldn't let me touch the 'special ingredients' until my first year of Hogwarts," you smile as Cissa gets excited over the collection of bulbs you'd been preparing to plant early before leaving for school in September.

"Its me! Daffodils, right?"

"Yeah, that's you! They don't flower this late unfortunately." 

"So this used to be your grandmother's?"

"It did! I've had it for 6 years now. Would you like to come in?" you gesture to the front door, pulling out your keys to unlock it. 

"Its colder here than in London. How far north?" 

"About an hour or so flying from Hogwarts depending on the weather," you answer, giving the door 3 knocks before swinging it open. 

Narcissa looks very out of place in your living room, she stands awkwardly in the middle of the room while looking around. Probably noting the abundance of books on bookshelves and, where bookshelves had ran out, stacks of books piled in front of said bookshelves. Little trinkets she had sent you over summer lay all around the room, on top of books, the coffee table, the walls. The notes you keep in a box next to your bed, taking your favourites out before you sleep to read over them again. 

"I'm home!" you call out. 

"You live with others?" Narcissa turns to face you. 

"No, just letting the house know," you smile. "It feels less lonely somehow. You can sit down if you want. Tea? Coffee?" 

"I'm okay," she says, stiffly sitting down on the nearest sofa.

You take all of the shoes out of your bag and place them at the door before moving to the kitchen, "Make yourself at home!" 

As the kettle boils away you neatly set up your plates with biscuits and homemade tea bags, sugar and milk in little ceramic cups in the side. Filling the teapot, you place it on the tray before carrying the whole thing through to the living room and placing it down on the coffee table. 

"I know you said you were okay but I have a feeling you're just deeply uncomfortable sitting in my house right now so I brought some anyway." 

"Maybe that's just not what I wanted to drink on this sofa," she grins, wrapping around her shoulders the blanket she left you earlier in the year. 

"Oh! Well I have other options. Muggle soft drinks, alcohol, water?"

"Water would be great!" she laughs, watching you skip away to the kitchen and back. 

"Its tap water, is that okay?" 

"Yes, can you put it on the table for me?" 

"There, better now?" you ask, turning to fave her. 

"Not really, I'm still really _thirsty_."

"No wonder! You haven't drunk a thing I've- _oh_."

Narcissa cracks up as your face changes to realisation, "I'm sorry, darling. It was very sweet of you to go and bring me things." 

You sink onto her lap, her arms wrapping around you as you place short kisses on her lips and across her cheek. When your try to move the collar of her dress, she pulls your hand away.

"Sorry, where can I touch?" you ask.

She moves your lips back to hers with a hand in the back of your head, her free hand slowly guiding your own hands down to rest on your breasts. Her hands slide down your sides, grasping your hips and outer thighs. Narcissa gives you deep kisses, her fingers slipping up your bare skin below your top. Taking the hint, you let your robes drop to the floor, removing your top in one fell swoop. 

"When I bought that bra," she smirks. "I really didn't expect to be this angry that it isn't on the floor." 

You let out a laugh as she unhooks it and chucks it away over her shoulder, "Do you want to take off a few layers?" 

"I'm okay with just enjoying the view," she replies before putting her mouth to good use, licking and sucking your bare nipples as her hand delves lower and lower to pull off your jeans.

Fingers brush past your underwear, slow strokes turning into curled fingers moving faster and faster you whine softly in Narcissa's ear. 

She doesn't stop as you cum, loving to watch you ride out wave after wave of toe curling pleasure. When she finally shows mercy and slips her fingers out of your throbing heat, she takes great delight in watching you cleaning them off.

"Thank you," you murmur as she kisses you sweetly, wrapping the blanket around you and helping to slip off your wet black lace underwear before balling them up into her purse.

* * *

"So you understand, Moo, why I am completely conflicted at this present moment in time?" you laugh down the phone to Remus, still wrapped in Narcissa's blanket despite her leaving hours ago. 

" _Did she just say she fucked my cousin_?" comes a screech in the background accompanied by a cacophony of crashing and the thunder of footsteps. 

"Wait. Do you have _company_?" you ask, conspiratorially.

A sigh rings out from the other end of the line, "I think it's time to let you in on the reason for my absence the past couple of weeks. Can you get to my place in half an hour?" 

"Of course, are you okay?" 

"Its not life endangering," Remus laughs. "You'll see when you get here." 

* * *

Standing in front of you is a man with a black, curly mop of hair pulled back loosely in a bun. Despite clearly having washed several times there's still a very grim, sunken look to his skin, as if Azkaban itself had leeched into him over the years. 

" _You_!" you turn on Remus. "I thought we were friends. I thought I'd offended you and our friendship was in mortal peril when all this time you've just been shacking up with _D'Artagnan_ over there!"

"Who?" the man identified by Remus as Sirius Black asks. 

"It's a whole thing. The jacket, the hair, the whole scruffy yet sexy vibe," you explain, laughing. 

"I like this one, let's keep them," he declares, clapping his hand on your shoulder before sinking himself onto the couch next to Remus. 

"I'm sorry, I apologise. It was very last minute," he bumbles. "But anyway, you sound like you were also preoccupied."

"I know the Fortescue's menu off by heart and can tell you minute by minute when each Goblin takes their lunch break at the bank," you groan, launching yourself into the pink armchair so hard it creaks as you sling your legs over the arm. 

"In some circles that would be very useful knowledge," Sirius grins, taking a swig of fire whisky from his glass. "Talking about Goblins, how is Narcissa?"

"Acting weird. Weirder than usual," you frown. 

"Didn't think she had it in her for a lesbian muggleborn affair. Good for her," he smirks. "Malfoy still treating her like shit I take it?" 

"He took her to Venice last year. Paris this year. Her and Draco both." 

Sirius scoffs. "Got to keep up airs somehow. Legend has it his cane has been used as more than just a walking stick when it comes to dear cousin Cissa. Wouldn't dare leave him though, not when Draco came along," he explains, a sadness in his eyes for the people he's lost along the way. "Surely you've seen the marks. Beast of a man, maybe even worse than my own _mother_." 

"Okay, that's enough doom and gloom for one day," Remus calls out, reaching for the phone. "Pizza?" 

"Yes! But only if we get it from the good one, are they still there?" Sirius bounces in excitement, reaching over Remus for the takeaway flyers he keeps stashed in a side table drawer. 

"Yeah, sounds good," you murmur, sinking back into the armchair. 

You remember the whip of the cane holding Draco to his seat during the first Parent's Evening, Narcissa flinching her head almost unnoticed at the movement. The way she wouldn't dare say anything out of turn, always letting Lucius take the lead even in the bookshop last year. The dream of Narcissa violently shifting to the nightmare of Lucius' hand clamping down on your neck. How she was happy to be laid bare in February but earlier today shyed away from the most innocent of your touches to the fabric at her neck. You've never seen her smile around him.

How long has she been trying to hide it?


	13. Chapter 13

On the orders of Minerva you find yourself and Remus squished into the teacher's carriage of the Express. Aparently, Harry Potter has to be supervised closely this year after his antics the past two years.

After making sure the boy was _firmly_ on the train at departure, you took your seats at the very back of the train. Around three quarters of the way into the journey you had bought some pasties from the trolley and settled in to eat them before they got cold. 

"So your _boyfriend_ is famous, huh?" you grin, taking a big sip of the tea from your thermos as you thumb through the Daily Prophet. 

"Apparently so," Remus answers, opening his little packed lunch Sirius had made for him. 

"This is our year, Moo, I can feel it. Everything is going to go to plan, I manifest this into the universe," you laugh, hands thrown to the heavens. 

The train grinds to a halt. 

"I'm going to throw you so far off this train that you'll burn through all nine lives, Kitty." 

"I guess this means we'll have to check on Harry," you grimace, potting the top back on your thermos and almost shedding a tear for the pumpkin pasties. 

Working your way down the train you pop your head into each carriage, advising students to sit in their seats as an icy chill spreads through your bones. When you finally reach the Usual Suspect's carriage you find a hulking black mass hovering at the compartment door. 

Remus immediately jumps into action, conjuring a shield charm to deflect the being before you both run to check on your kids. 

"Dementors, nasty creatures," Remus advises. "Here, have some chocolate, you'll feel better."

He snaps off a square of the chocolate Sirius had packed in his lunchbox and offers it to them. 

"Probably looking for Sirius," you murmur from beside him, patting Harry on the arm as he comes round. "We're nearly at Hogwarts, best change quickly into your robes! Professor Lupin and I need to have a little word with the driver. Do try your best to stay out of trouble." 

Checking in on the students further on, you stop when you come to the Slytherin carriage.

"Can I have a bit of that chocolate of yours?" you ask Remus. 

As he pops a square into your hand, you make a motion for him to go ahead in front of you. The compartment to the left is usually occupied with Draco and his friends but now it seems to be him alone. He sits, knees curled into himself on the chairs as you open the compartment door. 

"Dementors?" you smile softly, sliding the little square of chocolate to him across the table. "Professor Lupin finds that chocolate helps." 

He looks down to the chocolate as if you'd just handed him a ticking bomb. 

"Its not poison, promise," you laugh. "Try it, you might like it! It's probably a little bit different to the sweets your mother sends you." 

"Why are you trying to be nice to me?" he asks sincerely before popping the piece of chocolate into his mouth. 

"Why wouldn't I be? No matter how you behave sometimes, you're still one of my kids," you smile. "Do you mind if I have a seat? I'll leave when your friends come back, put on a little sniffle if you want to tell them you played a prank on me." 

That earns you a small smile as he invites you in, "Take a seat." 

"Did you do anything nice over summer?" you ask, sliding into the bench seat across from him.

Draco nods, "My father took us to France. Had to come home early though. Something to do with his job at the Ministry."

"Was it fun? I've always wanted to go. The Eiffel Tower, The Louvre, the pastries!" 

"It was okay, the pastries were very good," he grins. "I prefer London though, most of my friends are there."

"I understand. I didn't get to see very much of my friends over the summer either. I spent most of my time reading and making dastardly difficult exam questions for this year." 

"I think I'll be okay," he laughs. "None of the exams have gone ahead so far anyway."

"Come Hell or high water, you mark my words, Draco," you grin. "There will be an end of year exam."

The train makes a lurching movement as it starts back on its journey.

"Draco, did you see those-" Pansy exclaims as she pulls open the door to the compartment. 

"And as I said, Mr Malfoy, unless you want detention for the next month I sincerely suggest you stop with these silly jokes of yours!" you shout. "Making a mockery of my tea! We'll see about that come the end of year exams!" 

Abruptly, you push yourself out of the seat and exit the compartment, turning back to give Draco a conspiratorial wink before attempting to find Remus in the next carriages. 

* * *

  
"Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, Hufflepuff, Slytherin, Gryffindor will be the first five," you bet, noting it down on a slip of paper. 

"Sev, you want in? Winner gets 1 Gold request, 2 Silver requests, and 3 Bronze requests. Gold for anytime, anyplace, you have to comply. Silver for less illegal exploits like taking a detention swap or cleaning cauldrons. Bronze for general purpose like fetching and carrying, note taking, help with marking," you explain. 

With a deep sigh he makes you think he's going to pass up the opportunity before rapidly naming houses, "Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Slytherin, Slytherin, Ravenclaw." 

"Remy?" you ask. 

"Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, Slytherin, Slytherin, Hufflepuff."

"Okay, bets are locked in, may the best Professor win," you grin, settling back as the 1st years make their entrance, lead by Professor Flitwick due to Minerva being otherwise engaged. 

* * *

"Okay, so Remus and I have three each, Sev has one. We need a tie breaker," you groan. 

"I bet everything I have that Dumbledore will say the word ' _vigilant_ ' at least four times in his speech, " Remus laughs. 

"' _We_ ' at least four times," you bet, grinning as Remus tries to argue with you but comes up blank. 

* * *

  
"I can't believe he said ' _vigilant_ ' six times but only said ' _we_ ' twice!" you moan, settling down to the task of polishing every pair of shoes Remus owns. 

"Can't help my genius, Kit," he smirks from his deskchair, tea and biscuits in hand.


	14. Chapter 14

Steam twirls delicately through the air, the tea cups on the desks all filled with loose leaf Earl Grey which scents the room.

"In order to read tea leaves, we must drink the tea first," you laugh as a group of Gryffindor stick their nose up at the idea. "I want everyone to tell me one _bad_ thing and one _good_ they feel about this year. I'll give you an example. My bad thing is that I won't get to prank you all this year with no consequences because most of you are getting free reign of Hogsmeade. My good thing is that I get to see all of your _beautiful_ faces again for another year."

A chorus of vomiting noises and embarrassed commentary rings out from the class.

"Lavender, you're next!" you smile. 

"Oh, okay. Well I guess my bad thing is that I forgot to pack my favourite scrunchie this year, I only realised when I went to get it earlier. My good thing is seeing all my friends again."

"We're glad you're back! And Parvati?" 

"My bad thing. I guess the Dementors. They're pretty scary. My good thing is getting to learn more charms this year!" 

"The Dementors are quite scary, but they're supposed to be there to keep you all safe," you explain. "The real terrifying thing is wondering what Harry will do this year to get your exams cancelled."

* * *

"I can only see some blobs," groans Pansy from the leftmost table beside Draco. 

"Harry too, he just has a full patch across his whole cup," Ron laughs. 

"Looks like a big dog. Look at the ears and the tail," a Gryffindor from the table beside them answer, lifting up the book of symbols, "That's the Grim it says here. A bad omen... An omen of death." 

"I heard exams are cancelled and everyone automatically gets a pass if someone in your class dies. Harry is just taking one for the team," Draco laughs. 

"That's big talk for someone with a black hole of tea in their cup, _Malfoy_ ," Hermione spits back. 

You give Draco a glare, silently begging him to keep his mouth shut.

"My future is so big it doesn't fit the cup," he glares, glancing at you to see if he passed the test. 

"Even if there wasn't anything in the cup, there is something to be said from the absence of things too," you smile. The presence of rings and the absence of a heart or a cup for example, could mean a loveless union. The complete absence of leaves on the bottom of a cup could be a sign of water. In essence, you see both what you have and what you would need to make it better. And that's your homework for this week. What do you have in your cup, how can you improve it? Just a page of parchment will do for the first week back."

* * *

"You'll be fine, Hagrid!" you soothe, walking to his first class with the 3rd years. "The kids love you already, and that's half the battle!" 

Coming into a small clearing in the forest you find the subject of today's lesson, Hippogriffs.

"Very proud animals, Hippogriffs," Hagrid warns. "Got to bow to 'em first you see. Even then they might still not like you."

"So a cat with wings?" you smile, bowing deeply to the closest one, a silver dapple. "Hello, beautiful." 

Holding out your hand, Buckbeak the Hippogriff saunters forward, almost sniffing your hand before giving it a soft tap with its soft head. 

"Very impressive, Professor," Hagrid smiles. 

"See, you'll be great!"

As the kids start appearing, half of them already shredded by the textbook before they even get close to a Hippogriff, you're happy to see them all excited for classes with Hagrid. 

After taking Harry through the same steps of becoming acquainted with the animals, Hagrid launches him onto the silver dapple's back before yelling words of caution as it starts into a run. Harry yells as the Hippogriff spreads its wings and takes flight. 

"Hagrid, are you trying to test out how far he can cheat death? McGonagall's going to _scream_ ," you giggle, watching Harry soar through the air, looking more free than he's been since infancy it seems. 

The kids cheer as he finally lands, Hagrid helping him down. Draco, in his jealousy it seems, proclaims how easy it is. 

" Nothing but a big chicken," he smirks, walking closer and closer. 

"Draco, stop!" you shout in warning, running to push him back as the Hippogriff rears back on its hind legs. 

Searing pain spreads across your arm and shoulder as the hooves land their blows followed by a crack to the head before the Hippogriff calms down.

"I thought we were friends, Beaky. Such betrayal," you groan, a little dribble of blood running down your cheek ruining your attempt to act cool in front of the kids. "Are you okay, Draco?" 

"Class dismissed," Hagrid panics, seeing Draco sprawled out on the leaves of the clearing, completely fine but whimpering at the look of your arm and face. Buckbeak nuzzles his forehead to your uninjured shoulder in apology. 

Picking Draco up over his shoulder, he stoops down to pick you up.

"I'm fine, just a little scrape. Nothing I can't handle," you reassure him and he quicksteps to the hospital wing. 

* * *

Lying in one of the beds in the hospital wing, arm already reset and bandaged, Matron Pomfrey sits looking at the smaller cuts on your face while preparing some alcohol swabs. 

"Deep cuts, we can heal. The little ones will have to do it on their own I'm afraid," she smiles comfortingly at you. 

"I already said I'm absolutely fine," you laugh, feeling the dried blood crack on your cheek as it moves. 

"Sorry..." Draco murmurs from the bed across from you. "I didn't think it would..." 

"Thank you for apologising," you say sincerely. "I am fine, just glad you're didn't get hurt when I threw you into the heavens with my superstrength." 

He breaks out into a short laugh, giving a wide smile, "Wasn't that strong." 

Draco's smile disappears as raised voices approach the closed door of the ward. 

"-should be put down! And that bloody bird!" Lucius fumes, storming through the doors to Draco's bedside, closely followed by Narcissa who sits next to her son, checking him over frantically. "We'll take this further, don't you worry!" 

"We heard there was an accident. Blood and broken bones, Professor Lupin said," Narcissa fusses confused. 

"Actually, the Hippogriff hit the Professor, Mrs Malfoy," Matron Pomfrey states. "Draco is entirely uninjured apart from a little _pain in his rear_."

"It's true! They pushed me out of the way. It was my fault really," Draco murmurs to his father, turning his head to his mother for comfort. "I shouldn't have-" 

"Be quiet, Draco," Lucius hushes, turning sharply to face you. "So you're the one who accosted my boy?" 

"Me again!" you smile, waving your fingers on the hand that can still move.

At the sound of your voice, Narcissa turns her attention to you, standing abruptly when she sees you as if she hadn't noticed you were there this whole time. 

"I'm fine! Just some little scrapes. Matron is making it out to be worse than it was," you laugh, unsure if you're trying to reassure her or you. 

"Yes, well no one cares about that do they? It's your job to protect the students, do you expect an award?" Lucius spits. "The Headmaster will hear of you bullying my boy in front of his classmates."

Lucius turns on his heel, not a word of affection to his son, and struts out of the ward. Draco apologises before following him out in an effort to explain the situation. 

"Matron, would you mind if I sat with the Professor for a moment?" Narcissa asks quietly. 

Pomfrey turns to you anxiously, as if she would be complicit in a murder if she dared move. Slowly, she lowers the swab she was using on the largest of the cuts. 

"You've missed too much of your lunch break already for me, go ahead. I'll probably still be here when you get back," you grin, watching her fuss with her apron before leaving. 

"Look at you! What the hell happened, darling?" Narcissa groans quietly, sinking down to sit next to you on the bed and stroking your hair back to see the extent of the damage. 

"Remus wrote to you?" you ask, holding her hand to your face and pressing your lips in soft kisses to her wrist. 

"Well, I think he intended it for me. Lucius got to it first, thought it was about Draco the way it was written," she explains, picking up a new swab and starting where Pomfrey had left off.

"Do you think I'll have some cool scars?"

"I think you'll have a few new ones on your behind if you scare me like this again," she smirks. 

"Promise?"

"I would never lay a hand on you like that," she says, sobering up. 

"Like he does?" you whisper. 

Narcissa tenses, pulling her hands back to her sides, "Who told you that?" 

"It's not your fault. He doesn't deserve you." 

Cissa takes a deep breath, "Stop. Please." 

"Does that work on him?" you ask, tears threatening to escape for the first time today. "You have to tell someone." 

"Like it or not, he is my _husband_ ," she grits her teeth. 

"Maybe he shouldn't be," you scoff.

"You wouldn't understand, the society I live in! It's-" 

"If you're so happy with him and your ' _society_ ' then why would you be screwing around with me?" you cry, salty tears burning the cuts on your cheek. 

"I... I just..." 

"I can't do this," you breathe. "I'll be here when you make up your mind. Until then, I can't keep seeing you, waiting for you."

"Wait what?" 

"Either I am yours or you are his. It might be selfish, but I can't keep competing with someone who doesn't even respect you and continue to lose every time," you reason. "If you want help from me, you will always have it, no matter what you choose. But it will be that of a _friend_ and nothing more."

You swipe at your face as Matron Pomfrey returns, looking concernedly at the both of you. Narcissa stands pin straight and takes measured steps out of the ward. When the door closes shut, you curl up into yourself and bawl as Matron runs to your side. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blame Billy Ocean for the angst :')


	15. Chapter 15

"Wands at the ready, wands at the ready!" Remus gives a warning to the kids as they stand in a line in front of the cupboard.

Parvati is the first up. A cobra slithers forward into a jack-in-the-box. Ron's spider slips on rollerskates. Seamus' disembodied hand turns into a crab.

As Harry steps up, you make eye contact with Remus, a silent oath to protect him. As the swirling stops, the hulking mass of a Dementor groans towards Harry. As Remus forces his way between them, the dark mass becomes night sky, a full moon rising from the clouds. As it turns into a balloon, the deflated squeaking sound travels closer, coming to a halt in front of you. 

Black mists divide. Lucius stands proudly wiping his red hands with a tissue while prowling slowly towards you, Narcissa dead at his feet with eyes wide open. She had watched death coming for her. 

"R-" you stutter, wand in hand. "Rid-"

Your lungs burn, head spinning as your vision blurrs.

"Riddikulus!" you scream with your last breath. 

Narcissa's body disappears, Lucius' red tissue being pulled out of his sleeve in a never ending knot of multicoloured tissues like a clown at the circus, a confused look on his painted face. You never understood how people could enjoy clowns. There is something inherently wrong about painting on a smile and hurting yourself while others watch and laugh along. As it turns out, it's fear all the way down. 

With a flick of Remus' wand Lucius dissolves and the swirling mass of horrors is once again trapped in the cupboard. 

"Good job, kids," you breathe, throwing on a smile before turning slowly on your heel and walking straight to your classroom. 

* * *

Frantically scrabbling at the lock on the door, you tear through your classroom as you move to the staircase for your bed. 

"Something happen?" comes Sirius' voice from behind you. 

Jerking around to face the voice, you see him sitting in your armchair, tea steaming away in front of him with some of your snack stash littered around the desk. 

"How did you get in here?" 

"What? Like its hard," he scoffs, giving you a little wink before offering you your chair back. 

Collapsing into the chair, Sirius starts a little fire going in the hearth before moving to your room. Duvet covers are thrown over the bannister with pillows and sheets. When he comes back, he wraps you up in the blanket from your bed as you charm the sheets into a fort. Sirius curls up in your duvet cover on the floor next to you. 

"So, what happened?" he asks, half opening a chocolate bar and popping it in your hand.

"Boggart got me," you chuckle. 

The door rattles as as a body slams against it, "Kit?" 

Remus. You stand to open the door, locking it tightly behind him before waddling back to your fort and into your chair. 

"Sirius, love, please tell me you didn't break into the castle midafternoon," Remus groans as he spots the pile of duvet.

"Like it's hard, Moo," you laugh, Sirius smiling at your inside joke. 

"Come sit, babe. Kitty was just telling us a horror story with some Boggart of yours," Sirius says, making a grabby hand at Remus until he has been fully integrated into the duvet. 

"Its okay, we can talk about something else!" you smile, watching as Remus rests his head on Sirius' shoulder as Sirius runs his hand mindlessly over Remus' cheek. 

"Tell me. If you don't, I'll ask Moony and he's not a reliable witness," Sirius jokes. 

Taking a deep breath, you begin. 

"It was Lucius. He, erm... He had killed her. She was just lying there at his feet. And there was nothing I could do to stop him from killing me next," you explain. "Maybe I didn't want to stop him from just ending me too. Sorry. That's very morbid. I'll stop."

"Have you told her?"

"Can't. I broke it off with her that day in the hospital wing. She chose him and the life she's used to. She left, and she hasn't spoken with me since."

Sirius sighs, "We're going to need more snacks." 

* * *

An hour before Remus' change, he and Sirius leave for the Shrieking Shack. Sirius had insisted that you stay and take an early bed time. As bad as you felt for thinking it, you were relieved to not watch your best friend get torn apart by the wolf inside him. There's only so much you can do in your animagus form, the little cat being dwarved by the wolf each full moon as it howls in pain and despair. 

Settling into bed you find that sleep doesn't come easy. It grabs you by the eye sockets and drags you into darkness. 

* * *

  
Come Christmas Eve, you find yourself as the third wheel. Sirius, having stayed over the previous night with Remus in your classroom, pours them both tea.

"Sleeping beauty awakes!" Sirius proclaims. 

"One hundred years you've missed, Divination is being taught by Muggles and Severus still isn't Defence professor!" Remus joins in. 

"Har har," you mock laugh. "If Divination is being taught by Muggles then I don't have to see your ugly faces this morning then do I?" 

"Ouch, she knows my weakness," Sirius groans, clutching at his chest.

"It's okay, I'll move on," Remus laughs. "Plenty more fish in the sea."

"You're both disgustingly adorable, I get it," you grin. "Its hard to see people living out your dreams."

"I was thinking that we could all go into the village to find Harry a replacement broom." Sirius smiles. "A little family day out. Just a dad, his Goblin offspring, and their dastardly handsome pet dog." 

"Am I the dad or the Goblin? I'm fine with either," Remus offers. 

"I bag Goblin. I want to cry in the middle of Honeydukes when you refuse to buy me whizbees," you reply. 

"Urgh, I wanted to do that!" Remus groans. "Can we at least swap halfway?" 

"Okay, but only because you have to be an adult to buy whisky at the Three Broomsticks."

* * *

"And Fudge goes, ' _He's the most dangerous brute to have lived!_ ' and they all agree! Meanwhile we're sitting in the corner trying not to crack up at the fact you got your head stuck in a chair the same morning," you laugh, almost folded double at the sight of Remus, tears streaming with laughter. 

Sirius looks up from the wrapping paper, trying to disguise the shape of a Firebolt and failing, "That's what you get for leaving crumbs on the chairs. Besides, I believe the question was ' _Never have I ever laughed **at** the Minister of Magic_' not in the same room as him."

Moony takes a long drag from his glass of fire whisky, "I have definitely done that more than once."

"I don't think I've laughed at him," you say. "Mainly just tears at the absolute idiocy. Anyway, it's my turn. Never have I ever rode a flying motorbike." 

"I feel like these questions are very targeted," Sirius laughs as both he and Moony take sips from their glasses. "Never have I ever had a sex dream about Minerva." 

Sighing, you tip your glass back, taking it like a shot, "Only every night." 

"Never have I ever skinny dipped in the Black Lake," Remus chuckles, refilling your libations. 

Sirius hold up his glass to yours as you clink them together, lamenting, "The Giant Squid is an excellent lover." 

"So many arms, so many positions," you nod. "But the Merpeople are sadists."

* * *

You're rudely awoken by Sirius, excitedly jumping up and down on your bed, mattress groaning and creaking in protest. 

"Sirius," you whisper. "No loud noises before breakfast!" 

You dry heave at your own mention of food, the rocking backwards and forwards only worsening the feeling. 

He jumps down as Remy calls for you both from the classroom below. With patchy memories, you sit up. Glancing around the room you find balled up slips of parchment, your quill tossed on your desk haphazardly. Did you... Grade papers? 

"Kitty! He won't wait any longer, we have to go see Hedwig's deliveries!" Remus calls to you. 

Throwing on the nearest clothes and - hopefully- clean robe, you stumble down the stairs before being swept away to the Great Hall. Sirius, lucky git, gets to remain in your classroom with the snacks. 

As the smell of food hits you, it takes all of your willpower not to double over and vomit on your own shoes.

"Remind me never to play drinking games with you two ever again," you murmur, Remus taking you under his arm for support as you move to sit in a chair between him and Minerva.

"Minnie," you moan, head flopping onto her shoulder. "Help me." 

Minerva chuckles, pulling you gently into a side hug and patting your cheek, "Remus, go easy on her next time. Not everyone has your steel liver." 

You turn your head to him slowly, shit eating grin plastered on your face.

"Yes, Minerva," he smirks, filling your plate with bacon and eggs while taking all of the toast for himself. 

_That evil little shit_. 

Soft thunks of parcels on wood ring out as the owls begin their daily postal routine. A particularly large thud catches your ears, glascing up to see Hedwig narrowly missing breakfast plates with the broom-shaped parcel. 

"Woah, what's that, Harry?" Ron seems to gasp as the other students have a look around. 

Harry tears the wrapping open, eyes lighting up when he sees the broom below, "A Firebolt. For me? But who?" 

His gaze sweeps over the teacher's table, finally focusing on you and Remus. You both give little waves over to him, laughing as he gives you a beaming smile. Elsewhere in the hall, the rest of your kids who stayed over Christmas are opening their own packets from Minerva and you. Little trinkets, books, sweets. Small things that make the world of difference. 

Your own owl lets go of a stack of parcels which make a relatively soft landing straight into the bacon and fried eggs on your plate with a little splat.

"Oh no, breakfast is ruined," you deadpan, using a tissue to wipe off the worst of it on the very bottom package.

Minerva takes out her carpet bag from under the table, passing out her own gifts to the teachers who also stayed behind, "Just a little thing, to thank you for your hard work this year." 

Opening Minerva's parcel first you find an picture frame, opening it out like a book reveals three pictures. One of your grandmother, Minnie, and your grandfather at a younger age laughing and hugging in a school corridor, one of your grandmother and you playing in her garden, and the very last being a picture of the 3 of you together relaxing at the beach.

"She was exceptionally proud of you, as am I," Minerva adds. 

"Thank you," you smile, tears in your eyes as you press your forehead to her shoulder. "I'll treasure it. Yours is in your office drawer as per usual."

You smile, thinking of the fire whisky rolling around in her locked bottom desk drawer. Opening the first of your other packages you find a set of odd skeleton keys tied to bells with thread. The note says its a gift from Luna, nargle repellent. The next is a joint gift from Hermione and Pansy, black Greek oracle stones. The third you unwrap turns out to be a book.

"Poems of Sappho," you laugh, turning accusatorily to Remus. "The subtlety!"

"That wasn't me," Remus snickers. "Yours is in your classroom for later. They've got you down to a tee though." 

"There's no note with it," you groan, searching through the wrappers it came in and shaking the pages open slightly.

"What's in the other one?" Remus asks, picking up the red envelope. 

The envelope floats and splutters into life, a red ribbon tongue descending from the white paper teeth. You barely have time to register the scene before everything goes to shit.

Remus balks, "Is that a-" 

"Write this down, boy. If you even think about touching my wife one more time, I will personally fucking end your life myself! Remember the exclamation mark... Why are you smirking?" the Howler screams in the voice of Hector, the shopkeeper at Flourish and Blotts. 

"Oh. My. God," you murmur, watching the letter tear itself to pieces before your very eyes after doing its damage. 

Titters of shocked laughter ripples through the remaining student body, thankfully scarce due to the holidays and those who slept in. 

"I'll erm- I'll see you all at dinner," you stutter, picking your things up and walking as quickly as you can out of the hall. 

_He knows!_

_Lucius knows!_

_That must mean she's talked to him about it._

"Stupid! Stupid!" you growl at yourself. "Why did you have to give her an ultimatum like that?"

_You put her in danger._

Images of the Boggart flash behind your eyes as you as you storm through the castle to your dorm. 

"Kit?" Sirius smiles, face dropping as he takes a look at your face. 

"I fucked up, Pads. I fucked up," you sob, his arms wrapping tightly around you as Remus bursts through your door after you. 

"Thank Merlin, I thought you'd done something stupid," he huffs, out of breath after running up the height of the North Tower after you. 

"What happened?" Sirius asks calmly, his hand rubbing warmth into your back. 

"Howler," Remus answers. "The students were very impressed." 

"It was him," you seethe. "Lucius sent it, he knows. Cissa must have spoken with him. I've fucked everything up."

"How do you know it was him?" Remus proposes. 

"Well I'm not in the habit of fucking any _other_ people's wives, Remus!" 

"Okay, okay, just making sure!" 

"What if he's hurting her? What if I've killed her?" you murmur, the wet feeling of tears soaking through Sirius' shirt against your cheek. 

"He wouldn't. If he went out of his way to disguise who sent the letter, he wouldn't slip up and make it obvious by advertising it like that," Sirius replies, his voice low and calming. 

"The one thing he's good at is not letting his abuse show," you say, thinking back. "There's far too much that Cissa can hide for me to be comforted by the fact he won't make it obvious."

"You showing up is going to make it worse. If she hasn't told him, it would tip him off. He could just be sending you angry letters in frustration that he's not getting his own way with that whole trial deal with Hagrid." 

"You could be right, Remus. But what if you're not?" 

Sirius and Remus look at each other before coming to a decision. 

"Then we'll get someone to check for you," Sirius states. 

* * *

"Remind me why I'm doing this for you?" Severus drawls.

"Because you love us?" you try, receiving nothing but a raised eyebrow. 

"Because it's my Gold request, by the laws of the bet, I call it to be done," Remus adds. 

"You would do that?" you question. 

"Of course. I have the dad energy, you have the Goblin energy," Remus chuckles. "So, Severus, when can you go?" 

Sighing deeply, Sev stands, "What do you want me to say to them?" 

Remus smiles, giving you a wink before detailing the plan. 

* * *

"They're fine," Severus calls out, reemerging from your fireplace in a jet of green flames. "They had just sat down for lunch." 

"And..?" you ask, your fingernail held between your teeth. 

"She was laughing, didn't know anything about any letter. Said it was a farce that the students were subjected to such foul language but then made some choice statements about you. Lucius agreed. They both looked absolutely fine," he sighs. "Is that it? May I go now?" 

"Thank you, Sev," you say sincerely, your hand holding his arm briefly before he moves away to his own dorm. 

When Severus closes the door and the sounds of his retreating footsteps have silences, Sirius pops his head around your bedroom door. 

"So, all's well again?" he asks. 

"I can't say I'm fully placated but, yes, it seems as though she's _alive_ at least," you sigh. 


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Abuse mentions

"Thanks, _mum_ ," a Gryffindor student snickers as you point out some symbols she had missed in her bone throwing.

"Mam, can you help me with the meaning of this one?" a Slytherin giggles from the back.

"Your mother should be so lucky, Taylor," you sigh, rolling your eyes at them before moving to climb the stairs up to their table. 

The news of your Howler had spread like wildfire upon the students' return from Christmas break. Despite the months progressing, the question of who you had your dalliance with was still a hot topic, each student taking it upon themselves to believe it was their own mothers. Despite your attempts at denying all allegations, the nickname had unfortunately stuck. 

"Okay, that's all for today, kids! Remember, 2 sides of parchment for homework, the deadline is for the same class time next week," you announce, waving the students out of the door. 

* * *

"The _Marauders' Map_?" you laugh. "You were the biggest bunch of nerds back in the day." 

"I'll take that," Remus shrugs, unfolding the newly confiscated folded parchment before holding his wand to the centre. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good." 

You groan at the password as ink floods the pages and soon find yourself immersed in unfolding the other areas of the castle. 

"That's us!" you gasp, pointing out you and Remus' names in the Defense classroom. 

"And, if Sirius and I are correct, we should be able to find that rat Pettigrew when he shows his face again," Remus explains. 

"Harry saw his name last night, in the portrait gallery corridor, here," you point. "Where could he have gone since then?" 

"Anywhere," Remus sighs, eyes scouring over the pages. "He could be hiding anywhere."

* * *

"Do we really have to go to this stupid game, Remy?" you groan. "We should be watching the map not the match!" 

"Padfoot has it covered. Besides, I think you need a little break to get out of your own head. It has been months! And it's the last match of the season!" 

"I will literally just be sitting reading the whole time and lamenting about the cold, damp, and windy conditions from the staff tower when I could be doing it from the warm, dry, cosy armchair in my classroom."

"And _I'm_ the nerd?" Remus jokes. 

"It's Sappho! She's the mother of lesbians!" you laugh as you ascend the staff lookout. "Not that I'd get much reading done with you and Pads canoodling in the background."

Taking a seat at the back with Remus, you softly open the leather-bound book, pages stiffly skimming through your fingers as you try and fail to skip the title pages and introductions. The book lands on the inner cover page, your fingers having numbly let go of the text block pages with the cold. 

You usually would gasp in horror at the thought of writing in a book. The ink an all too permanent scar on fresh, clean pages.

It is strange, therefore, that the black ink you find scrawled across the page only serves to make your heart beat faster for an entirely different reason. 

**_I love you_**.

"Remy, I have to go," you state abruptly, shooting up off of the bench seat and jumping down the stairs almost running head first into a passerby. 

"Ah, Professor, why are you in such a rush?" Lucius smiles, far too many sharp teeth to be friendly.

"I suddenly felt very sick, actually. I was going to take my leave and rest for the day," you explain, smiling to Dumbledore who stands beside him. "Apologies, Headmaster. If you'll excuse me."

"Of course! Exam preparation stress comes to us all at this time!" he nods. 

After walking as calmly as you could until you were out of sight of the Quidditch pitch, you scramble through the castle to your fireplace, a scoop of Floo powder in your hand as you clearly state your destination and the green flames consume you. 

* * *

It is not a welcoming place you arrive in. The dark walls, towering over you give a sense of grandeur but also suffocation. Despite the physical size, it seems to box you in. Portraits of generations past leer at you from the walls opposite the fireplace.

" _Mudblood_?" they whisper as you pass. " _Who let that creature through the doors of this great house_?" 

You dare not make a sound, passing silently through corridors, feeling trapped in a spider's web just waiting to get eaten alive. 

" _Does the Master know what foul beasts sneak in the dark_?" 

" _Always scurrying around like rats, filthy Mudbloods_."

A small pop makes you jump, turning in the darkness to make out who had appeared. 

"Professor!" Dobby's voice sounds out. 

"Dobby. I thought you were made free?" you ask confused at why the little elf would be visiting the home of a previous master. 

"Dobby watches over the Mistress these days," he explains. 

"Do you know where she is? Your old Mistress?" 

"Of course! Take Dobby's hand, Professor!" he offers, his hand outstretched. 

With a crack you both apparate, reappearing in what seems to be an underground dungeon.

"Surely not," you laugh humourlessly.

" _Hello_?" comes a whisper from the very end of the room. 

When you walk closer to the source of the voice you feel the blood drain from your face.

" _N-_ _Narcissa_?" you stutter, barely able to breathe at the sight before you.

Chained to the wall by long swathes of metal, clamped at the wrists, her legs sprawl out on the floor, too tired for them to hold her up any longer. Her face is in shadow, brown hair matted at the sides. 

"Hello again, darling," her voice croaks. "If I ever get out of here, I am never going to let you go."

"It's okay, you're okay, bear with me and we'll get you out!" you cry, moving closer to her. 

"You can't, you're not real. Remember, you tried yesterday, and the day before that, and the days before that. I keep telling you it won't work," she babbles as you reach out to take her hand. 

"Dobby, can you take us out of this room?" you whisper, clasping his outstretched hand as his other reaches out to touch Narcissa's arm. 

Appearing in what looks like a livingroom, the light from the windows illuminate the shadows of Narcissa's face. It is only now that you find the purple shadows to be bruises. The matted hair dark with blood.

You watch as she blinks in the sunlight, your arms wrapping around her gently as she sits quietly on the sofa. 

"We're going straight to the hospital. Dobby, can you gather some of her things and drop them off at the cottage? Be quick, don't let him catch you." 

Lifting up Narcissa you apparate to St Mungos, left watching on as witches in green robes spirit her away to a bed, curtains closing with a screech of metal on metal.

"Can you fill out these admission forms for the patient?" a blonde witch asks, holding out a clipboard.

"Of course," you nod. "Can I go in there? I need to stay with her." 

"After the healers make their assessment, they'll decide whether you can have access," she explains passing you the clipboard. 

* * *

The witch at reception takes one look at the name on the clipboard and moves Narcissa to a more private corner room. Money buys the extra 3 walls and a door, you guess. 

Fast asleep, Narcissa is curled up under the hospital blanket. You lie cradling behind her, arm over her waist to hold onto her hand as you watch the door for uninvited guests. 

The purple bruises have started to fade over the past hour. The physical horrors disappearing while who knows what mental scars lie behind her forehead.

Despite numerous warnings to the reception, Lucius still comes to the door. Shouting in frustration when the door you spell locked doesn't budge. 

"You give her back to me _right_ _now_!" he roars, loud enough for Narcissa to startle awake. 

Giving him the finger, you apparate Narcissa away. The hard hospital bed giving way to the softer mattress of your cottage bedroom. Cissa blinks slowly in the darkness, adjusting to the change of scenery. 

"You're okay, it's the cottage, he can't get you here," you soothe as she grips your hand, turning to face you. 

Her soft fingers swipe gently across your cheek as she looks up at you with big doe eyes.

"I'm sorry," you apologise, voice catching in your throat. "I should have been there. I should have known.

"Is this real? You feel real," she murmurs as you hug her head to your chest. "But I've been wrong before. Your mind has never raced like this in my dreams before." 

"It's real, I'm here, and I'm never leaving," you sob, stroking your hand through her still matted hair. "So don't you worry about a thing."

* * *

Waving her hands through the bath water, Narcissa sits with her eyes closed as you wash her hair clean. Bubbles mixing with blood turning the water a ruddy orange.

"I love you," she whispers, a smile spreading across her face as you massage her scalp. "I told him so. Right to his face over breakfast. He had to break out the foundation when Severus popped in for lunch."

"I love you too. I think I have done since the moment I saw you," you admit between shuddering breaths. "I shouldn't have put you in that situation. I almost got you killed."

"Shhh," she hushes you gently. "I'm still here. I'm with you. And that's all that matters now. No more tears will be shed because of _him_."

Cissa pulls you by the hands to the side of the bath, tugging the neck of your robes down to bring your lips to hers. She laughs as loudly as her throat allows her when you climb into the bath with her, still fully clothed but not giving a shit, only needing to be closer to her. 

"I could listen that sound all day," you smile, peppering gentle kisses across her face, voicing your love for her between each. " _I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you._ " 

"What was that? I'm a passing acquaintance?" she pouts, her hands kneading your hips under the water. 

"A complete stranger, my darling," you smile, kissing the pout off of her lips. 


	17. Chapter 17

Blinking open your eyes, you're met with an empty bed and the sounds of voices echoing through the halls. You pull back the covers and root around on the floor to find the shirt that was there has mysteriously vanished. Giving up on clothing, you wrap the blanket from your bed around you and grab your wand from the bedside table. 

Narcissa's raised voice comes from the kitchen. Trying to adopt a stealthy walk through the hall, you hug the wall as you move, wand at the ready. 

The kitchen is situated in an open space in the corner of the living room, allowing you to look on as Narcissa picks up a bread knife.

"Is that why the plums are there?" Cissa laughs.

"Of course! I had to stop them rampaging through my mugwort somehow!" the voice of your grandmother sounds from her portrait on wall by the back door. "They were always far too happy to run out of the house and roll in the dirt."

"You should have known they were a Hufflepuff from the second they were drawn to dirt and mugwort."

"I had been rooting for Gryffindor the whole time. It takes bravery to run around _naked_ in those temperatures." 

"Nana!" you groan. "It was one time! I didnt make a habit out of running around without clothes."

"I can see that," your grandmother replies smugly, taking a look at your blanket dress. 

"I couldn't find any of my floor clothes and I heard voices shouting from down the hall," you reason. 

"Ah, sorry. They're in the washing," Cissa replies, nodding to the spin cycle starting on the washing machine. "Your grandmother had to show me how to use it and then started shouting at me for using too much of that green soap."

"You did chores? You're a _guest_!" you gesture to the breakfast toast she's starting. "Wait until I get dressed and I'll come help." 

After actually having to open your closet, you find the clothes to be hung up and put away neatly, definitely not as you had left it. You dress quickly, finally pulling a jumper over your head before moving back to the kitchen. 

"How did you find all of this? I didn't have any fresh food after leaving last year," you note, taking the knife from Cissa's hands and slicing some bread to toast as she moves back to the fridge to get eggs. 

"Dobby dropped some off earlier this morning," she murmurs, cracking the eggs in a frying pan to cook before moving back to you. 

Hooking her chin over your shoulder, she wraps her arms around your waist and watches as you press the lever on the toaster. It isn't until she moves to kiss you that your grandmother clears her throat and reminds you both that she is still watching. 

"Nana, can you send for Moo? Only speak if he's alone, don't give out details, please," you request. 

"That boy is _always_ alone," she replies, eyes rolling before standing and leaving her portrait frame. 

"Your grandmother is facinating," Cissa smiles, leaning back to you for a kiss. 

"Pain in the butt sometimes," you laugh, jokingly, popping out the toast and buttering the slices. "Do you want to get dressed before she comes back with Remus? There should be a bunch of your clothes somewhere that Dobby dropped off yesterday."

"Okay, look after the eggs!" 

* * *

"Moo! Those were my eggs!" you groan, watching him stuff the whole plateful into his mouth. "Pads, don't you dare touch that other-!" 

Both plates empty, Remus at least has the decency to wash up before coming back to sit on the sofa opposite you. 

"So, I take it we'll have to find a replacement invigilator for your exams this week?" Remus asks. 

"I think so. If that's not too much trouble," you apologise. "I can't leave her here and I certainly can't take her into work with me."

"Well, nothing major has kicked off since last night. Your whole classroom and dorm was mysteriously tipped upside down. The kids have been going crazy since you left." 

"How's the Goblin?" Sirius asks, playing around with the trinkets on your bookshelves. 

"I've cried more than she has," you state.

Sirius puts down the set of binoculars and moves to grasp your shoulder, "Takes time." 

"What about you? Any closer to finding the rat?" 

"Security picked up after your room was trashed. We've set the map up in the Shrieking Shack. We'll find him. He can't hide for long," Sirius says, resolute.

"If you need any help, send Nana. I'll do what I can."

* * *

Your stomach growls at you when Sirius and Remus leave. 

"Narcissa? Are you still hungry?" you call out, moving to the bedroom to see what's keeping her. "I'm sorry, they ate our-"

Cissa sits curled up on the floor, her clothes spread out in front of her. 

"Sweetheart?" you say softly, moving to sit in front of her. "What happened?" 

When she makes no noise in response, you start to repack her clothes into her suitcase, sliding it away across the floor before standing to pull out some clothes from your own wardrobe.

"They might not fit properly," you smile, offering a t-shirt to her first. "Not quite your style either I think."

The sight of Narcissa in a Wyrd Sisters t-shirt is not one you thought you'd be party to but here you are. After fitting into a pair of your old jeans, she holds her arms up for you to help her into your Hufflepuff jumper.

"Do you want some bacon?" you ask, taking her hand as you walk her back to the living room.

After eating, you sit on your couch, Cissa curled up into you as you hold her. Slowly she finds the courage to close her eyes, falling asleep as you keep watch over her. 


	18. Chapter 18

In her sleep she sees Lucius. His hands around her neck, the emotional torture, his endless peacocking at events as if she was there to be a trophy and not a person.

As each image pops up, you fight back for her. The weight of her head on your shoulder as you buttered toast that morning, the way the corner of her lips perked up when she had the first scoop of ice-cream, the soft whisper of her dress as it fell to the Astronomy tower floor, her naked body bathed in the moonlight as her thighs twitched against your ears, the feel of her eyes on you when you read her cards. 

You cradle her close to you as her face relaxes, her breathing becoming soft and regular again. 

"I hope you know how _loved_ you are," you whisper, fingertips tracing her jawline. "If not, I'll just have to keep reminding you every single day." 

* * *

"What did you call this again?" Narcissa calls out from a shelf of tape cases. 

"It's a cassette tape. It plays music. Here, I'll show you." 

You pick out a random mixtape you made of trash songs and guilty pleasures, winding the tape carefully back to the start. It was your greatest achievement to date, the record button having to be pressed at the exact moment lest you get half of the commentary before the song or miss half the song itself. 

"Okay, don't judge me based on this one tape. It's purely for research purposes," you explain, hitting the play button. 

" _I love myself, I want you to love me. When I feel down, I want you above me. I search myself, I want you to find me_ ," sings the woman's voice as you sigh deeply, knowing what abomination is coming. 

"I don't want anybody else. When I think about you, I touch myself!" you sing theatrically, to Cissa who stands with her hands to her mouth trying not to laugh. 

"Do you really?" she smirks, thoroughly enjoying your reaction. "I do that all the time."

"Okay, time to skip!" you proclaim, pushing the fast forward button and hoping the player doesn't chew the cassette tape to pieces. As the introduction for an older song starts you press play. "I think you'll like these crooners better." 

"Frankie Valli," she laughs. "Funnily enough, even my mother would make an exception to the Muggle rule for him."

You hold your hand out for her, spinning her into your arms as she accepts your offer. 

"You're just too good to be true, can't take my eyes off of you," she sings, leading you around the living room in a slow sway, one hand clasped to yours with the other at your waist. 

The two of you continue dancing together for some time. The crooners turning to more upbeat modern songs as your trash mixtape continues on, the dancing turning from ballroom to random arm waving and jumping around. 

"I think your dancing skills are good enough for a ball," she states as you both slump down onto the sofa.

"What was it that convinced you? The grapevining or the box step?"

* * *

Groaning, you place kisses trailing down her neck as you watch her roll out the chilled dough, "Why bake some pie when I can just have _you_ for dessert?" 

"You won't find any cherry down there, darling." 

"That's perfectly alright. You're more like a fine wine, you only taste better with time." 

She bursts out laughing, turning in your arms to give you sweet kisses, her hands covered in dough as she rests her arms over your shoulders. 

"I think the chicken's ready," you murmur, making no move to save it from the fiery pits of the oven. 

"Check the potatoes while I finish this?" 

You grumble when she removes her arms from your shoulders and turns back to her pie. 

You plate the food carefully, setting the steaming plates down on your tiny square dining table in the corner of your living room followed by the silverware and glasses. After sliding the pie into the oven, Narcissa comes to join you at the table, pouring a glass of white wine for each of you. 

"I don't think I've ever cooked with someone other than my nana," you remark, taking a large fork full of chicken into your mouth. "Remus mostly eats takeaways when I visit. Although he did make me toast once." 

"I usually never get to cook," Cissa admits. "It was always made for us by the house elves." 

"Sorry, this must be nothing like what you're used to." 

"It's really not," she admits. "And I couldn't be happier for it. We should cook together tomorrow."

You reach across the table and take her left hand in yours, thumb feeling the ridges of her knuckles and the notable absence of the jewellery on her ring finger, "I would love that. I'm not much help though. This is delicious and I am wholly convinced it was all you."

* * *

The two of you fall into step as if you'd been together for years, with you taking the time to wash the dishes as she dries them with a towel and stacks them away. Standing on her tiptoes to reach the top shelf for the wine glasses, Narcissa carefully stores the last of the dishes.

"I love you," you smile, watching her amusement as she closes the cupboard door. 

"If you want me naked, all you have to do is ask," she laughs, moving to take off the Hufflepuff jumper she has been wearing the whole day. 

You shake your head as you still her hands, "Can I brush your hair before you go to bed?" 

For some reason, the idea of you running a brush through her dark hair makes her more bashful than the thought of you being lip locked with her lower lips.

"Okay," she nods, "I'll go get dressed for bed first then." 

"I'll make us some tea and pick out a good book for you." 

"That sounds wonderful, darling. Give me five minutes," she smiles, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before moving to your bedroom. 

Moving to your bookcase you pull out a couple of books you think she would enjoy, briefly getting distracted by reading the blurb of books you'd forgotten you bought. By the time you knock on your bedroom door and Cissa invites you in, she's changed into a spare set of your cotton pyjamas, sitting on the bed and flipping through the little notes from the box beside your bed. 

"They're the ones you wrote me," you explain, gesturing to the little note cards she holds in her hands. "My favourites are at the front so I can read them over and over again."

Laughing, she reads one of the note cards, "' _Venice bores me with the number of American Muggles taking pictures and calling every bridge they come to 'the Bridge of Sorrows'.'_ " 

"I've never been to Venice. I'd probably do the same," you admit, putting the mugs on the bedside table with the books. You pick out a couple of the note cards. "' _Draco fell into the canal today_ ' and another of my favourites ' _Where has pizza been all of my life?_ '." 

"Draco and I got a little lost and ended up in a local Muggle part of the city. He nagged me the whole time until I finally caved." 

"Where would you like to visit next?" you ask, taking her by the hand and sitting her down at the dressing table as you stand behind her. 

"I think you would like Norway. Definitely a trip to Paris. The Balkans are meant to be beautiful too. Where would you like to go?" 

Picking up the hairbrush you answer, "Everywhere. I want to see everything and experience as much as I can like a local and not necessarily a tourist. There is something quite fun in just existing in a place for a week and going grocery shopping as if you live there." 

"Grocery shopping?!" she laughs. "You go somewhere foreign to test how well their markets are laid out?"

"I also collect those little stickers off of apples," you grin. "There's magic in the mundane." 

Starting at the ends of her hair you slowly brush out any snags. Long strokes from her scalp to the ends of her hair gliding through the brush. After plaiting a loose braid from the back of her head to stop her hair getting tangled, you tie a little bobble at the end to hold it in place. 

"Beautiful, love," she smiles, turning to kiss you before leading you back to the bed. 

* * *

A gentle hand sweeps across your cheek as you slowly blink open your eyes.

"Sleep well?" Narcissa smiles, closing the little gap between you for a kiss. 

"I think this is the best way to wake up I've ever experienced," you laugh softly, Cissa pulling your lips back to hers. "And you? Did you sleep?"

"Not quite, but I did have some fun listening to you talk in your sleep," she admits.

"Do I want to know?" you ask, covering your eyes in embarrassment.

"I'll tell you over breakfast," she smirks, slipping out of bed and wrapping herself into your dressing gown.

"I don't want to move," you groan, making grabby hands at her to get her back into bed.

" _Baby_ , I'm hungry," she pouts, breaking out into laughter as you launch yourself out of bed, haphazardly pulling on a long shirt from the pile of clothing you piled up on a chair in the corner of your room before running to the kitchen. 


	19. Chapter 19

"Babe! You can't just go around asking people why they're half naked!" Sirius says in mock horror, turning away from Remus. "But it is a good question. It's dinner time."

"Good afternoon to you too, _Maxi Pad_ ," you grin. 

"Woooooah, Bodyform-" Remus sings. 

"Oh. It's _dinner_ time," Sirius mewls, eyebrows waggling as he looks over your shoulder. 

Narcissa stands with her head poking out from behind the wall to the hallway, curious at what all of the sudden commotion is. Thoroughly confused, she moves to stand next to you. 

"What business do you have here?" she mutters, standoffish towards the two intruders standing by the back door.

"Cousin! How nice of you to show your face to such pitiful brutes such as myself!" 

"They didn't announce their visit but they're welcome nonetheless," you smile, taking Narcissa's hand in yours before addressing Sirius directly. "I take it you have an update on the whole Wormtail situation?" 

Remus and Sirius look at each other sheepishly. 

"You've just come to snoop and steal more food, haven't you?" you groan.

"Yes. That one," Sirius admits. 

"We were worried about you too," Remus adds.

"You told me to ask Beans to cook some bacon for you." 

* * *

With Narcissa sitting at your little dining table to eat, you take a seat on the rug next to the sprawling map. Remus and Sirius both sitting with their eyes on the names and footsteps even as they shovel dinner down their throats. 

"I take it, by the way you let me so close to your new beau, that you knew all along, cousin," Sirius addresses Narcissa. 

"What do you mean?" she replies, eyes fixed on a slice of carrot.

"Well if you had murdered your best friends and half of a village, I would have second thoughts about letting you stroll right up to Beans and eat from their porcelain plates." 

Narcissa scoffs, "Of course we _knew_. _Everyone knew_. It wasn't exactly in character for you to suddenly wish to toe the party line after spending your whole life shunning it."

"How can you be sure? You've certainly made a bit of a personality switch yourself. I wonder what your mother would think of your more recent _exploits_ ," he retorts. 

"To be very honest, she can roll in whatever fiery pit she's found herself in," she says calmly, taking a very unladylike gulp from her wine glass. 

Eyes wider than the dinner plate you find yourself enamoured with, you pointedly keep your eyes down, only using your peripheral vision to gauge the reactions. 

"Probably neighbours with my own." 

"Speaking of hellish women, how _is_ Bella?" Narcissa grins. 

"No longer keeping me awake with her singing, that's for sure," Sirius laughs.

* * *

"Okay, okay, okay, I see your Howler in 1st year and I raise you that time Regulus found me kissing Irene Spiggs in a broom cupboard in 7th year," Narcissa declares, bottle of wine in hand as she cuddles up to you on the floor, having already put one of Remus' mixtapes to play in the background. 

"I see your literal closeted lesbianism and I raise you Bella finding the love letters I had written in secret but never posted and proceeding to use them as hallway wallpaper," Sirius says tipping his glass of whisky to Cissa. 

With a heavy sigh she spins open the cap of her wine bottle with her thumb, using her middle finger to flick it off in one smooth motion before taking a long drag straight from the bottle. 

"I have _never_ been more attracted to you," you state, watching the whole move in wonder.

Narcissa leans over to murmur in your ear, "There's a lot of tricks I can do with my fingers, darling." 

_Fuck_. 

"Did you show _Irene_?" you tease, your hand tracing the sleeve cuff of the jumper she stole from you. 

"Jealous?" 

Your denial comes out a little loud, the cheap wine hitting you harder than you expected, "Of course not! She got a kiss in a cupboard, I got my tongue in your-" 

"Nope!" Sirius shouts, cutting you off. "My brain does not need any more nightmare fuel, thank you very much."

"Fuck, Marry, Kill," Remus starts. "Minerva, Severus, and Flitwick."

"Flitwick for all three. Fuck for trust, Marry for security, Kill for wealth. The man buys nothing but conductor batons once a year, he's sitting on a gold mine. Prove me wrong," Sirius says with a finality that makes it hard to argue. 

"That's cold," you balk. "But you're not wrong. He seems like an excellent lover for the older man. _Wingardium Leviosa_ y'know?" 

" _Engorgio_ ," Remus whispers, tears in his eyes as he tries not to laugh. 

"He doesn't need it," Sirius declares. "So big he has to fold it in half to fit in his trousers."

"I see your love letter wallpaper and I raise you being personally victimised with the mental image of Flitwick folding his monster dick in half," you propose, watching as the others take a drink. 

* * *

  
Sirius and Remus snore softly as they lay squished together on the sofa, a knitted blanket thrown over them both. 

Narcissa rests her head on your shoulder, listening to the songs change as the tape progresses. The shortlived buzz from the wine having worn off, you were both left in almost sober reality. You can't help but beam in happiness as you commit this moment to memory. 

"I want to file for divorce," Cissa blurts out.

Taken off guard, it takes you a moment to understand her words. 

"We can see about visiting the Ministry sometime this week if you want?"

" _Tomorrow_. As soon as they're open," she says lifting her head to look you straight in the eyes. 

You nod slowly, "What about Draco? Are you going to let him know first?" 

"I don't want him to resent me for leaving him but similarly I don't want him to feel pressured into leaving his father if he doesn't want to be with me," she admits.

"How about we go tomorrow and see what paperwork you need, and after that you could take the week to explore your options? Talk with Draco. Have time to discuss everything," you suggest. 

"I just want that man gone," she murmurs into your collarbone. 

"I won't let him touch you. You take as much time as you need."

Soft kisses turn urgent, hands wandering a little too far for the living room. Leading her back to the bedroom by the hand, you close the door over and cast a muffling charm on the room. 

"Expecting some noise, darling?" Cissa teases, her hands working their way down to the hem of her jumper as she pulls it up over her head. 

"I want to hear you scream in pleasure," you smile innocently, helping her slip her head out of her shirt. "Is that okay?" 

Nodding her head she reaches down to her waist and unzips the pesky skirt getting in the way. 

"Use your words, _baby_?" you ask her, taking great delight at how that term makes her flustered.

"Please, fuck me," she murmurs against your lips with a smile before pulling you down onto the bed with her. 

Laying between her spread legs, you kiss her softly, hand running through her hair before following the curve of her neck and between the valley of her breasts. Little moans escape her lips as your fingertips slide over her ribs to knead at her side. Palming her breast and giving her nipples a little tug between the 'v' of your fingers, you work your kisses down her neck to press the flat of your tongue over the underside of her breast, rolling upwards to circle her nipple with the tip of your tongue before teasing it between your lips.

As your hand works its way down her side, your fingertips grip at her waist and over her hips, finally grasping at her outer thighs. Cissa continues to kiss you firmly, a hand wrapped around the back of your neck as you move your own hand down to press against the length of her lower lips, the lace of her underwear providing a frustrating combination of insufficient friction and barrier as you slowly rub your fingers up and down over them. Keeping her eyes fixed on yours, you move your fingertips in slow circles around her clit, teasingly never giving enough friction where she needs it most. Her hips jerk as she lets out a groan when you occasionally divulge her with a press of your fingertips.

Moving your hand back to her breasts her hips buck against you, trying to find purchase on your thigh. She lets out a moan as you pull aside the lace of her underwear, finally getting the relief of your fingertips directly to her lower lips. Her eyes widen as you move yourself down her body, positioning your face between her thighs and beginning to press the flat of your tongue up her slit, her hand in your hair gently tugging to let you know _exactly_ what she thinks of your gentle strokes. The groans of pleasure she makes as you slide two fingers into her wet heat are almost enough to send you over the edge by themselves. The combination of your talented tongue and curling fingers has her breathing rapidly. Short, stacatto whines turning to deeper moaning as you suck on her clit before leaning back up to kiss her. Your wrist movements become faster and faster in response to her vocal appreciation.

"Right there," she gasps, closely followed by, "Just like that, baby. Fuck, I love you."

You can see it in her face as she gets closer and closer to cumming, her eyes never leaving yours as her fingers grip into your hair with one hand and she screams your name, proclaiming her love for you over and over again. A smile spreads across your face as you praise her. 

"You are so beautiful, my love," you moan, feeling her clamp down on your fingers as the waves of her orgasm spread through her body, her hand grasping your wrist to stop your hand moving as her thighs twitch against your hips.

"Mine, mine, mine," you claim, kissing your way down her body. 

You take back your hand, delighting in her expression as you run your tongue up her slit to clean up the warm liquid before pressing a kiss over her clit.

Narcissa pulls your face back up to hers, grinning from ear to ear and kissing you deeply, "Thank you, darling. You are all mine, I can't wait to be all yours."


	20. Chapter 20

Sitting in front of her leather suitcase, Narcissa takes a deep breath before flicking open the catches.

"I get that you don't want to walk up to the Ministry in my ratty Hufflepuff jumper, but you don't have to wear that stuff if you don't want to," you soothe, moving from the chest of drawers to kneel beside her after slipping on a pair of socks. Your fingers brush through her loose hair as she picks through the clothes. 

"I can't _not_ wear it," she murmurs, picking out a tailored blouse. "What would everyone think of me if I didn't?"

"Fuck them," you laugh, humourlessly. "If you don't feel good wearing them then what's the point? To make a bunch of strangers happy that you fit in a predetermined box that they think you should be in? Do you think they'd pity you for wearing clothes like mine? That my jumpers scream _poor_ , or my skirts aren't fashionable, and that somehow determines your value as a person?" 

Narcissa sighs deeply, clearly not wanting to answer your questions lest she offend you with the answers.

"I know it's silly," she admits, a sad smile briefly flashing across her lips. "But I need them to. I need them to think that I still want to be- still _am_ \- in that ' _box_ ', as you put it. That I'm normal and nothing has changed. That I'm still _me_."

You take a second to think before leaning over her to pick out a black dress, adorned with lace and fancy black ropework scrolls across the front.

"This one, with your hair half up and that little barrette with the raven feathers," you offer. "The black eyeliner trick you do and the dark pink lipstick. I think you'd look like a bad bitch."

"Is that a good thing?" she questions, turning to you with a smile. 

"The best," you grin, giving her a kiss as you move to leave the room, ready to evict your two lodgers from the sofa. "I'll be in the living room if you need me, sweetheart." 

* * *

"Remy!" you yell, looking up at the grandfather clock standing at the back door. "Remy, you're late for work!" 

Remus opens his eyes suddenly, startled as the jerking movement he took to sit up launches a still sleeping Sirius off of the sofa and onto the floor with a thud.

"What time is it? What day is it? What year?!" Remus panics, Sirius groaning from the rug on the floor as he blinks, yawns, and falls right back to sleep. 

"It's 8:40am, Monday, 1994. You have a staff meeting in 20 minutes and Minnie wanted you there early to talk about Grace's progress, remember?" you explain. "Last week of term, Moo. Let's not drink on a school night again." 

"Sirius!" he shouts, stepping over the man to get his jacket and shoes on. "Darling, I'm late, we have to go!" 

"It's fine, he can stay here. Nana can look after him for the day," you offer. "Cissa and I are going out for a little while but we should be back for dinner. I'll leave him some sandwiches to keep him fed in the mean time."

"Beans, you are an angel, I do not deserve you," he smiles, hands cupping your cheeks as he plants a kiss on the top of your head. 

"Your small child is safe with me," you joke, waving him into the fireplace and watching as the green flames spirit him away before moving to the kitchen. 

* * *

'gone out with Cissa, be back by dinner  
Moony at work until 5pm  
sandwiches and juice in fridge  
help yourself to books, tapes, and records  
***!!!! DON'T TOUCH ANYTHING IN MY ROOM !!!!***  
Nana is watching!'

You write the note before taping it to Sirius' forehead as he spreads out like a starfish across your rug, happily snoring away as you pull the blanket over him as best you can. 

At the sounds of footsteps you look up to see Cissa, dressed in her usual finery with everything you had picked out.

"What do you think? 'Bad bitch' enough?" she laughs, giving a slow little spin for you to see it all. 

"Wow. You look beautiful, sweetheart," you manage to stutter. "You wore the one _I_ picked out. Do we have time for you to take it all off again?" 

Beaming widely at your approval, she shakes her head at you, "We definitely do not have time for all the things I'd want to do with you right now." 

"Time is a construct but I'm still just it's pawn," you groan dramatically, moving to take her hand in yours. "I suppose if we must go then we must go."

Steeling herself, she links her arm with yours, when she is ready she apparates you both.

* * *

Walking briskly to the visitor's entrance of the Ministry, you let go of her arm as you descend into the bustling hallway, knowing if you continue to hold onto her, people will stare.

"Level two, I think," you remark as you walk side by side towards the elevators, your eyes sweeping through the crowd in case you're unlucky enough to cross paths with Lucius.

With a hand reaching up to hold onto the metal rail, you manage not to lurch embarrassingly when the elevator starts to speed backwards before ascending to the next floors. 

"Level two for Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Wizengamot, and the Administration Offices," a male voice announces. 

After alighting, the brass grate of the elevator snaps behind you both as the elevator whizzes away, leaving you standing in the corridor. 

The Administrative offices are brighter than any other office in the Ministry. Paperwork tumbles down from the filing cabinets, stacks lean dangerously towards the floor, and every wall is obscured by them. You wonder how anything gets done around here with the mess. 

"Mrs Malfoy," the receptionist says, blatantly ignoring your presence and standing to attention. "How can we be of service?" 

"I... I was wondering if you could provide me with some paperwork?" Narcissa answers, hands folded on the high desk dividing her from the rest of the office. 

"Of course," the witch replies with a smile. "That's what we're here for of course! What do you require exactly?" 

"How silly of me," Cissa smiles, looking back to you for assistance. 

Stepping forward, you address the receptionist yourself, "It was a request for myself, in fact. I was looking for some divorce forms?" 

"I see," the witch answers, looking furtively between Narcissa and yourself. "Well we would have to fill everything out in front of a member of the Wizengamot in that case to make sure it was all in order. I'm sure I can schedule a date for an appointment." 

"Is there really no way I could take it away and return it?" you question. 

"Well we would require both parties to present themselves, reasoning for the divorce, character witnesses, that sort of thing you see."

"I have hospital documents. Proof of domestic abuse. Does that still apply?" you grimace. "I really don't want to have to see them again in any format."

"I'm afraid that is the process. I can call down and see if anyone is available later today but I really would not be able to provide anything further myself." 

You take a look at Narcissa, standing stiff as a board and trying her best to look like a neutral party in this whole exchange.

"If we could speak with the Wizengamot member in charge of the proceedings today at least, that would be helpful," you request. 

"I can't guarantee anything but I'll do my best. Bear with me!" the witch smiles, moving from behind her desk to stroll down the corridor to the court offices.

Taking a quick look around you, confident that no one would see, you move your hand to Cissa's back. 

"What do you want to do?" you whisper, your hand rubbing in small circles over her back to comfort her. "We can meet them, see what you can do. I know you just want it all over with..." 

"We'll see them," she says, taking a deep breath to steady herself. "I knew it wouldn't be that easy. Nothing ever is when it comes to that man."

Your swipe your hand back quickly as the receptionist walks back through the door. 

"Good news, there is someone available for meetings at this time!" she smiles. "Follow me!" 

* * *

  
Heavy doors swing open to reveal a pink private office. The walls lined with porcelain plates with a range of cat breeds depicted upon them.

"May I present the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic, Dolores Umbridge," the receptionist announces.

"Thank you, dear," the witch behind the desk smiles before gesturing to the chairs in front of her desk. "Do come in!"

"Thank you for meeting us under such circumstances, I'm sure your schedule must be very busy," you smile, taking in the lurid pink cardigan of the woman in front of you. 

"Narcissa," she nods, ignoring you. "Your husband has just left I'm afraid. I'm very sorry to hear about your attack." 

"He told you?" she asks, confused.

"Of course! Showed me the hospital records and all. Nasty creatures those elves. The thought of your own trusted servant not only disobeying you but also to set upon you in your own home!" Umbridge explains, affronted. "I hope it was all set right. Discipline is a virtue when it comes to children and creatures both."

"He said a house elf did that?" you start, mouth agape. "A house elf beat her, unbeknownst to her _loving_ husband who went happily to a Quidditch match, while she was locked in her husband's own dungeon for days, and ra-" 

"Hush, now! " Umbridge snaps at you. "I'm sure Narcissa doesn't want to have to relive the horrors she went through that day, do you dear?" 

You sit back in your chair, quietly seething as she stirs a single sugar cube into her tea. 

"Now, about the divorce issue," she goes on. "I'm sure you've been made aware, both parties have to be present and in agreement. Without an agreement to separate there must be character statements, witnesses. It's a lengthy, _expensive_ , and time consuming process, you understand?" 

"We understand perfectly. Thank you for your time today, Ms Umbridge," Narcissa says smoothly, standing abruptly and moving towards the door, looking back to indicate she wishes for you to follow. 

"Delightful to meet you," you say, words dripping with syrupy sweet tones as you smile to the pink nightmare before you. 

Your face drops as soon as your back is turned to her, allowing Narcissa to open the door and lead you back to the elevators, not saying a word as it lurches away. Expressionless, she strides through the main entrance, leaving you to run a little to keep up with her. As you exit the telephone box on street level, you allow yourself to be pulled by the hand around the corner into a secluded street.

Apparating into your living room, you see Sirius standing, cup of coffee in hand and singing away in time with a record playing loudly in the background. He turns to see you both standing behind him. 

"Beans! Goblin!" he greets you both, looking a little self conscious. "How long have you been standing there?" 

Wordlessly, Narcissa zooms away to your bedroom, door quietly closing shut behind her. 

"I- erm," you stutter. "It's been a long day."

"It's 10am, Beans," he says, eyebrows drawing together in confusion. 

Taking a deep breath, you move to slump down onto the sofa. 

"There's my girl!" your grandmother's voice calls out in joy from her portrait on the wall beside the back door. "Finally! This one is a handful but my, does he have a voice on him."

The sound of your grandmother tips you over the edge, tears streaming down your face as you sit in silence. Sirius is taken aback, having a moment to assess the scene before moving to sit beside you, his arm around you as his hand slowly pats your back.

"I'm sensing we're missing something here," he murmurs. 

* * *

"And he told them that a _house elf_ did it. A fucking _house elf_ , Sirius. And they _believed_ him. They believed that he knew nothing about it. What the _fuck_ is going on?" you ask in disbelief.

"That sounds about right," Sirius replies.

You give him a dirty look as he tries to explain himself.

"You really think that they took a look at the hospital reports and said ' _Oh yeah, house elf, totally plausible_!'?" Sirius starts. 

"What are you getting at, Pads? That he _bribed_ the Ministry, a whole hospital, countless witnesses?" you laugh harshly.

"Take it from me, love. Not everyone in Azkaban is guilty and not everyone who roams free is innocent," he states.


	21. Chapter 21

You knock on the door to your bedroom before slowly pushing it open. Tatters of expensive fabrics lie strewn across your floor, the only intact piece of clothing being the dress she wore this morning which has been carefully put up on a coathanger over the door of your wardrobe.

Moving further through the wreckage, you note some suspicious dark red liquid spots dotting the floor. You follow them up onto your bedsheets, seeing a Narcissa shaped lump in the duvet cover. Urgently ripping the covers back you see her curled up in your jumper, clutching your pillow to her chest as tears roll down her cheeks. 

"What did you do?" you panic, pulling up the sleeves of the jumper and checking her legs. "Where's the blood from?" 

"Accident," she murmurs into the pillow, hiding her face. "The scissors slipped and scraped my hand. Nothing big. It's stopped now."

"You promise?" you ask, calming slightly at her explanation and sliding onto the bed to sit next to her. 

"I promise, it was stupid." 

You run your hand through her hair as she slowly uncurls herself from your pillow, "If you wanted me to take you shopping, you could have just asked." 

She stutters out a short laugh at your words, sniffing away snot as she moves to rest her head on your lap, hand curling around your thigh. 

"I see my pick made it out unscathed," you remark. "Not bad for someone with no fashion sense and one too many knitted jumpers." 

"It's the only one I bought myself. He hated it, wasn't modest enough," she explains. "When you picked it out for me I could have cried." 

"Well I'm not scared of you showing a bit of ankle," you giggle. "I quite like your ankles actually." 

"How do you do that?" she smiles through her tears.

"I ask you very politely to not wear socks," you answer softly, swiping away the most recent tear streaks with your thumb. 

"That!" she says, turning to face you. "Make me feel like the world isn't ending." 

"Don't tell anyone, but it's magic. I'm secretly a witch," you joke, grinning as you lean down to give her sweet kisses. "Here's the plan. I'm going to pull the covers over us so we can lie in a little duvet cocoon and you can be the little spoon until you're ready to face the world again. Then, we're going shopping for clothes and you can give me expert fashion tips for summer wear. And lastly, we're going to cook dinner together while babysitting your cousin until his boyfriend gets back. Sound good?"

"No," she pouts as you shuffle yourself down the bed to lay next to her and pull the duvet over you both. "I want kisses too." 

"Of course, that is an integral part of the plan," you add, pulling her flush to you as you face each other, her leg wrapping around yours as you knead your fingertips over her hip. "No kisses and the whole thing would fall apart." 

You pepper kisses over her face as she breaks out in a smile, "I love you. I love you. I. Love. You."

* * *

"Malkin's or Tatting's?" you ask her, having apparated to Diagon Alley after a hasty goodbye to Sirius, by then playing air guitar to Bryan Ferry in your living room to an audience of two; your grandmother and her friend from the bingo hall in Hogsmeade who spoke only in Polish. 

"Tatting's first, they have the best styles but Madam Malkin has the best tailoring," she admits in a conspiratorial whisper. 

"Tatting's it is then," you say, moving to cross the Alley. 

Narcissa falls into step beside you, hand reaching out to clasp yours until you flinch slightly at the touch. 

"I thought you didn't want anyone to see," you murmur to her, confused. 

"Fuck it. Let them see," she laughs. "What's he going to do? _Divorce_ me?"

"That's the dream," you grin, taking her hand as she offers it back to you.

Ignoring the stares of passers by, Narcissa sweeps through the door of Twilfit and Tatting's, setting to work at finding a whole new wardrobe of clothing. 

"It is so nice of Mrs Malfoy to treat her friend to a new dress," Twilfit croons from beside you as Cissa moves to the back of the store. 

"Yes, I'm very lucky to have a friend like Narcissa who knows all the latest fashions," you smile, politely. 

"A _new_ friendship?" they suggest, looking you up and down. 

"Not quite," you answer, smirking as they look at your skirt as if you'd just picked it out of a sewer.

"Well we all have to start somewhere I suppose," they smile before wandering away to another customer. 

You glance at the dresses, neatly hanging on the brass rail. Silks, satins, velvets, feathers. A myriad of textures under your fingertips when you run your hand along the bottom row. 

Picking out a green velvet dress with black lace neckline, you hold it up to yourself in the mirror. The hem swishes around your knees as you spin slowly left and right. Taking a look at the price ticket, you regret everything and carefully hang it back on the rail, hands spread out protectively in front of it while you take a step back as if it would shatter into a million pieces if you looked at it wrong.

Narcissa appears beside you, grasping the hanger of the dress you'd put so carefully away and holding it against you, smiling at the sight of you. 

"Did you want to try it on?" she asks, already pulling you to the changing booths.

"Have you seen the ticket?" you groan. "I could get 5 whole books for that. And when would I wear it? All I do is stand, make tea, and babble on about symbolism to kids who would rather be sleeping." 

"Humor me, darling," she states, pulling the curtain shut between you with finality having backed you into the changing booth. 

"I don't like it. I don't like it," you say to yourself, trying to mantra yourself into believing it as you stroke the soft velvet which hugs your curves in all the right places. "I don't like it." 

"Well? Do you love it?" Cissa laughs, popping her head around the curtain. 

"I don't like it," you state again, turning to face her. "It's entirely too expensive and I do not require it."

"I agree. You'd never wear it," she admits. "I take one look at you and need it to be on the floor. It's far too dangerous for you. Wait here and I'll go get more."

"We're here for you not me!" you laugh, watching her pop her head back out only to make a full bodily entrance into the booth with her arms full only minutes later. 

"The dress itself is stunning, but with this belt? Immaculate," she claims, cinching the belt to fit around your waist. 

Ten dresses later, you're ready to pay and leave. Narcissa having amassed a pile of her own clothes and a separate pile of clothes that she had picked up for you along the way after you had remarked how pretty they were.

"Don't tell me the price, I don't want to hear it," you laugh, passing Narcissa your little purse pouch. "Take what you need."

"It's my treat," she declares. "I wouldn't have you wasting your wage on me."

She passes back your purse, slipping it into the inner pocket of your robes before pulling out her own and passing over enough gold coins to fund your Divination textbooks for a decade.

After passing through Madam Malkin's, and finally folding to let you pay for the tailoring, you apparate home, full bags in hand.

Sirius looks around at you both from his seat on the sofa, "Nana fell asleep so I had to turn the tunes off."

"Oh no," you smile. "However did you survive?" 

"Well, you know that box you have under your bed?" he questions. 

"No, what box? There's a box? I don't know any box. Did you put it there?" you stammer. 

"Who do these belong to then?" he asks. 

You look on, mortified as he raises his arms to show off the handcuff rope tie he put on himself. "Sirius Orion Black, you better hope the Dementors catch you before I do!" 

He grins, jumping away from you as you lunge over the sofa to smack him with a cushion. As he runs to hide beside your grandmother's portrait, the fireplace lights green and Remus steps through. 

"I'm home!" Remus announces, almost being wiped out by Sirius not looking where he's going. He looks down at Sirius' tied wrists. "Do I want to know?" 

"I'm innocent," you stutter, hoping to all Hells that your grandmother doesn't take the time to wake up.


	22. Chapter 22

"How about now?" Narcissa asks, bringing the spoon to your mouth.

You close your lips around the metal, tasting the soup as she takes back the spoon.

"Mmhm," you nod, grinning. "That's the one." 

Narcissa looks so proud of herself, pulling you to her by the jumper for a kiss as Sirius makes noises of displeasure from the sofa. 

"Get a room!" he heckles, Remus giggling beside him. 

"It's _my_ house," you laugh, turning to him as Cissa moves to get bowls. "If my beautiful, talented, amazing girlfriend wished to fuck me on that sofa you're sitting in right this second, I would not hesitate to launch you both right out the door."

"As you should!" your grandmother announces from her portrait. 

"Heeeeeey, Nana," you try to downplay your surprise, turning to face her, resting your chin on your palm as you prop yourself up with your elbow on the counter top in an attempt to act natural. "Bingo finish early?" 

"Patrycja left early to visit Bogdan and no one else will talk to me after last week," she shrugs. 

"I told you not to go so hard on the wine! That guy you get it from has twelve best guy friends. It's dodgy," you chide her. 

"Nana!" Sirius calls out. "Chess tomorrow lunch time?" 

"Of course, babbie," she coos, absolutely smitten. 

Rolling your eyes at the realisation that you're no longer your grandmother's favourite, you move to hug Narcissa from behind, your chin resting on her shoulder as she slowly stirs the soup. 

"Need any help?" you murmur into her neck, lips skimming kisses over everywhere you can reach. 

"I think your beautiful, talented, amazing girlfriend has it sorted," she grins. "Do we get to meet her soon?" 

"Sorry, we haven't even spoken about labels yet," you apologise, cringing internally. 

"What would you prefer?"

"Me? I don't know...What do you want to call me?" 

"Well, in my head I have a few," she announces. 

"Okay, lay it on me. What are my options?" 

"So there's ' _girlfriend_ ', generic and a bit childish but it works. Or there's ' _lover_ ' but that sounds too racy in polite company. Mostly I just refer to you in my mind as my ' _future wife_ ' but I can't use that with other people yet." 

"Y-you what?" you stutter, your belly filling with heat as the words tumble around inside your mind as you turn to the boys lounging on the sofa. "You all need to leave, right now."

"What did we do now?" Sirius laughs.

"My _future wife_ just requested the sofa! You have ten seconds before you see some things that will scar you both for life," you warn, beaming as Sirius jaw drops.

"Called it!" Remus announces, dragging Sirius out the back door and taking your grandmother in her portrait along with him. "You have ten minutes before he gets too hungry and risks it all!" 

"I thought you were joking when told me about _lesbian time_ ," Sirius laughs. 

"Give it a month, they'll have five kids and a farm," Remus adds. 

The door clicks shut as you lift Narcissa up to sit on top of a space in the counter, still smirking from knowing _exactly_ what she has done, she spreads her knees apart and lets your fingers take over.

* * *

"I hope you cleaned up before touching this," Sirius grumbles from the table, having been forced into sitting down to a meal for once. 

"Of course I did! Food that good deserves the plate licked clean," you smirk, watching on as Sirius looks up at you in horror. 

"Moony, love, can you just erase the past thirty minutes of my memories?"

"Only if you do mine in return." 

* * *

  
  
The week progresses with no sightings of Pettigrew. Sirius ambles around the house as Narcissa, now in her own choice of clothes, experiments with recipes in the kitchen or takes her time to read with you. It isn't until Sirius spots Harry and the usual suspects taking an afternoon stroll down to Hagrid's that he unfolds that section of the map. 

"It's him! The rat!" he exclaims. "I found him!" 

As the three of you crowd around the map on your rug, you follow Sirius' finger down to the name banner of a man long thought dead. 

"Let's go. If we go now, we can still head them off on their way back up to the castle," Remus declares, snatching the map from the table as Sirius moves to the fireplace with him. 

"I'll come with you," Narcissa nods, taking your hand as you join the boys in the fireplace. 

Green flames swallow the four of you, spitting you out again in your office's fireplace.

"So many stairs!" Sirius protests before turning into his dog form to bound down with ease. 

"You just stay like that, Pads, you can't be seen in here," you mutter after him, trying to keep your voice down. 

Successfully evading everyone on the way out of the castle, you see the trio walking closer to you as you stand out of whipping distance from the willow on the grounds. 

Sirius snarls, taking a look at the rat who manages to leap from Ron's hands and climb down his trousers. The three of you wince as Sirius' Grim jaws close around poor Ronald's leg, trapping the rat at the same time. 

"Ron!" Harry yells in terror, watching as 2 of his Professors and his enemy's mother all turn to panic. 

"There were better ways of doing that, Sirius, for Merlin's sake!" Remus screams as Sirius drags Ron and the rat back to him. 

"Sirius?!" Hermione gasps. "That's Sirius Black!" 

"Drop it!" you yell, trying to grasp the rat from Sirius' jaws without it escaping. "Bad dog!"

"Why is biting his first response to everything?" Remus groans tugging Sirius' jaws apart as Narcissa moves to help Ron.

"Sorry, sweetheart," Narcissa soothes the screeching boy, taking out her wand to attempt a healing spell. "My cousin never thinks before he acts." 

"Scabbers! What are you doing to him?" Ron demands, watching on as you hold the rat out away from you to let Remus transfigure him back into a human, only serving to make Ron scream louder. 

"Not Scabbers," Sirius breathes, back in his human form at last and spitting rat hairs out of his mouth. "Peter Pettigrew." 

"Long time, no see, _Wormtail_ ," Remus seethes. 

"Move and they'll end you, Wormy," Sirius warns, nodding to you holding Pettigrew by the collar of his blazer with your wand in hand. 

"Remus, Sirius! My old friends!" Pettigrew croons, taking steps to escape your grasp. 

His efforts are in vain; a well cast petrification spell and he's flat on the floor. 

"One Galleon per kick," you smile. 

"Cousin Goblin will fund us all," Sirius laughs before turning to Harry who wears the most befuddled expression. "I think we need to have a little chat." 

* * *

"Let me get this right," Ron says, wide eyed as he sits at a table in Remus' classroom. "I've been sleeping with a 30 year old man this whole time?!" 

"Yes," Sirius answers. 

"And he was the one who told Voldemort about my parents?" Harry adds. 

"Yes," Sirius answers. "He had me framed for their betrayal, the murder of 12 Muggles, and the supposed murder of Pettigrew himself." 

"Aurors should be here soon," Remus announces as he walks into the room.

"Do you want to check on Draco while you're here, love?" you murmur to Narcissa who sits curled up in Remus' leather tub chair. 

"Can we?" she asks, unfolding herself out of the chair and moving to kiss your forehead. 

"Of course," you smile. "I'm sure they can hold down the fort for a while." 

"Did Mrs Malfoy just-" Ron gawps.

"Yep," Hermione giggles from beside him. 

"We'll be back soon," you address the room, Narcissa leading you eagerly away by the hand.

* * *

"Professor?" Pansy questions, looking at Narcissa behind you and instantly straightening her back. "I'll get Draco."

"Thank you. I heard you sped through my exam," you laugh. 

"Yes, Hermione is such a swot but she really helped," she smiles before turning back to get Draco. 

"Draco! Your _mummy's_ here," she cackles.

"I told you not to call her that," Draco groans. "I don't need to know about any milk you think she has."

"It's _MILF_ , and Hermione said that, not me!" she retorts, voice fading as she gets further away from the door.

"Draco, your mother wanted to speak with you," you explain with a smile, gesturing to Narcissa beside you as his eyes gaze down to your hand clasped in hers.

"Darling," Narcissa murmurs from behind you, opening her arms wide as Draco shuts the common room door behind him and steps into his mother's arms, a tight hug of relief. 

"What are you doing here with the Professor?" Draco asks, the friendly relationship you'd made with him over the years replaced by a harder, more distant mask.

"It's a long story, sweetheart," Narcissa starts softly. "Would you like to come upstairs for some tea?" 

"Not if it's with _them_ ," he spits. 

"You can go on ahead, I have some work to catch up on with Professor McGonagall anyway," you lie, trying your best to keep the shock off of your face. 

"Okay," Narcissa nods, confused. "Come up when you're done?" 

"Of course," you smile, watching as they disappear around the corner.

* * *

"I can't believe you'd do this to father!" Draco roars at his mother as you eavesdrop on the other side of the door to your classroom. "It's in the _Prophet_! They laugh at me in the corridors!" 

"I'm sorry, I didn't think," Narcissa apologises. "But you know I couldn't stay, don't you?" 

"What did he do that was so bad you went behind his back with that _Mudblood_?!" 

"Don't call them that!" she snaps at him. 

"They pretended to care about me! And all this time it was so they could look good. So you'd like them," Draco cries. "They used me as a pawn for their own games, just like father told me."

"It wasn't a game. They care about you just as much as I do," Cissa defends you. 

"Father says that he'll forgive you if you come back to us," Draco pleads. "Please."

"Darling, I can't," she whispers. "Why don't you come and stay with us? You don't have to go back to your father." 

"Where? In some disgusting Muggle shack? You may have betrayed the family, but I can't. I'm his son. You were meant to be _loyal_ to us. You were meant to _love_ us. But go ahead. Abandon us both, mother, if it makes you feel better!" he yells, venom in his words. 

You barely have time to react before the door swings open and Draco storms out, almost knocking you over in the process. 

"Draco, honey, please listen!" you blurt out as he moves to leave. "We didn't want you to get hurt like this, we-" 

"Don't you dare address me like that, you filthy Mudblood! You're welcome to my disgrace of a mother. I hope you're very happy together," Draco snarls, eyes red and cheeks wet with tears as he spits at your feet. 

He turns on his heels before storming down the steps before you can say another word. Stunned, you walk through the open door of your classroom to see Narcissa balled up tightly on your armchair, face in her hands as she sobs silently to herself. 

It's all you can do to curl your arms around her, moving her onto your lap as you take her place on the armchair while holding her tightly to you. Rocking her gently back and forth, you give soft, comforting kisses to the top of her head. 

"I've lost my _baby_ ," she cries, voice cracking. "He _hates_ me." 

"He'll be back. He'll get halfway down those steps and realise he's made a huge mistake. You give it a week, tops, and he'll come running back," you murmur, tears rolling down your cheeks at the sound of Narcissa breaking apart. 


End file.
